Look Back and Laugh
by SeeminglyAngelic
Summary: Ignoring the boy she was supposed to love, Kristen Gregory wondered why she could never get what she wanted. - Breaking Up, Messing Up, Growing Up sequel -
1. Shots, Preview

**Disclaimer/AN: Special thanks to everybody who favorite-d/alerted/reviewed **Breaking Up, Messing Up, Growing Up, **because then you rock. And I guess if you didn****'****t, you still do****…****maybe. (Just kidding.) P.S.: I AM NOT LISI BY ANY MEANS.**

_I see your dirty face// hide behind your collar //what is done in vain//truth is hard to swallow  
so you pray, to God, to justify//the way you//live a lie, live a lie, live a lie  
_~**Let It Rock – **Kevin Rudolph ft. Lil' Wayne~

**Shots**

* * *

_The ghost of an old rumor floating around in the head of Nikki Dalton, the question popped into her head. Forcing a serene smile on her face, she asked in a low voice: "Have you ever been in love?"_

_The tension surrounding the partygoers strengthened._

**--Kristen**

**Had I ever **been in love? Definitely. Most definitely. Before anyone else could even stop to ponder the question, my glass was raised, and I practically drained the cheap grape soda out of it. Next to me, Chris Plovert snickered and said something along the lines of 'chug', before emptying his glass too.

Right. Plovert.

"I feel the same way," Chris smiled, putting an arm around me the way a caring boyfriend was supposed to. I shrugged him away, saying that I was too sweaty from trying to dance. He believed me.

Would he have believed me if I told him that the 'chug' wasn't for him?

**--Dylan**

**That question was **almost too easy. Had I ever been in love? Yes. And I still was. I was standing there, holding Kemp Hurley's hand. He was more at ease with me than with any other girl, as he constantly told me. And, as we both looked at each other out of the corners of our eyes and took sips, I knew it was true.

He was better with me than he had ever been with Layne Abeley, no matter how many times they 'hooked up'. He was more comfortable around me than around any of his friends who were girls. He was more comfortable around me without Miracle.

I choked a little on my soda. Kemp thumped my back.

**Claire—**

**I took a **slow, dainty sip, smiling brightly. Of course I'd been in love – love was _everywhere_. From small crushes to big full-time love, I'd had it all. And every time, it felt like spring had sprung. Maybe that sounds corny. Maybe it sounds like I give my heart to every guy who I get the slightest crush on. I don't.

I'd made that mistake once, and I didn't intend on making it again.

I turned to look at Derrick Harrington, confused. Why hadn't he taken his sip yet? His eyes were fixed on the distance, nose wrinkled in that adorable way. It was only when he caught me staring that he swigged out of it, the same way he did with the milk carton at his house. (And he put that back into the fridge.)

"Sorry, babe. Wasn't thinking." He threw an arm around my shoulder, like I was one of his buddies.

**Alicia—**

**Love was such **a strong word. There were just too many ways to describe it. Were some people taking sips because of the love they had for their family and friends? If that was the case, I should've been taking a few for friendship – Olivia Ryan and Massie Block were a whole lot nicer than everyone thought…if they liked you enough.

Or did they mean _love_, love. Like _Titanic love?_

That was a pretty extreme question. How could you expect something when you were only fifteen? As people around me took sips, and smiled at their significant others, I just shrugged and took a fraction of a sip.

I wasn't sure if it was just me, but I swear that New Girl Nikki smirked.

**Cam—**

**I made a **mental note to do something horrible, evil, and cruel to Nikki the minute we left the public eye. There was no doubting what she was trying to get out of this. And it looked like she wouldn't believe anything that I said until I proved it in a game of shots. That didn't even make sense.

So, as she watched everyone (me specifically) for a reaction, I decided to see what she would do if I said yes. Taking a slow sip the same way I would on a hot day, I pretended to close my eyes. When I opened them, Nikki's eyes were narrowed accusingly.

Nikki Dalton was a nice girl. She deserved better. And she would come to realize that with time, whether or not I was the one to make her see it.

**Derrick—**

**Wasn't love what **married people claimed they were in before they got into huge, violent fights? Wasn't that what they said they were blessed with before they turned on each other, and decided that their kids were prime targets?

Oh wait. That was just my parents.

I made a small face, trying to remember if I'd ever felt anything close to love. Well, I'd told a girl I loved her in kindergarten because she gave me her cookies everyday during snack time. And once, my teacher made me write a Father's Day poem, even though I would've rather died, where I had to say that I loved him. Maybe once I'd said a couple of things to a couple of girls, but that was an 'in the moment' type of thing. (Don't ask, you really don't want to know…hehe…)

I got so lost in the list, that it took me about two minutes to realize that Claire was staring at me expectantly. I drained my glass, and slung an arm around her. "Sorry babe," I shot her a winning smile. "Wasn't thinking."

Hah. I wish.

**Olivia—**

**Love? Was this **girl serious? How could she even ask such a stupid question? There was _no_ love at age fifteen. Love was that eternal bond stuff people always went on about on movies. And Twilight, let's not forget that. There were boys, but do they really ever last? There were long relationships, but they grew tiring. Or just split.

So no. I watched everyone else drink their sodas and give each other annoyingly adorable looks. People looked at me questioningly, like they expected me to love Derrick. Kristen even had the nerve to ask.

"You may not have known this, Kristen," I replied with an eye roll. "But there's a difference between love and lust – that feeling you get looking at other girls isn't love."

She probably should've punched me in the face. Heck, that's what I would've done. But Kristen, being that stupid goody-goody, just turned away. And I watched the couples, feeling all too lonely.

This would have to change.

**Kemp—**

**As everyone took **their sips, or in the case of some, stayed calm, I took a couple. Holding onto Dylan's hands like I never wanted to let go, I felt like one of those revolting kissy-kissy couples who always walked past my house on Valentine's Day. And it wasn't so bad from the other side.

"One for you, one for moms, one for dad, another for you," I said quietly, so that no one else would hear. Honestly, I was embarrassed, but something told me it was the right thing to say. Years of training under Dictator Derrick brought one good thing: I always managed to blurt out the sweetest things, whether I meant them or not. Only this time, I did.

"One for Mira?" Dylan asked cutely, tilting her head to the side.

I didn't answer.

**Nikki—**

**I wasn't trying **to be clingy, honestly. I'd spent the whole day reminding myself not to embarrass myself in front of Cam. (I had a history of doing all kinds of crazy things for a guy's attention – I guess I'm as boy-crazy as everyone says.) But, 'shots' was _just too good_ of an opportunity. And maybe I was curious about everyone else.

Cam didn't seem to think so. It was egotistical. It was arrogant. It was so adorable.

And still, something deep down nagged me – was he thirsty, or did he mean something by it? What was it about the vague little rumor snippets Olivia Ryan seemed to love dropping in my direction? And why was I asking myself all of these questions?

I needed to ask one person and one person only: Derrick.

**Massie--**

**The word love **was just too amusing. I could already tell who was drinking what, and who they were drinking for. Even people who usually hung in the background, like Denver Collins and Eli Mannings (they liked each other, it was obvious), they were all so predictable.

"Chin, chin," Josh Hotz reminded me, a small smirk on his face.

"More like chug, chug."

**Josh—**

**I usually tried **my hardest to stay away from words like 'love'. Ones that can make or break a relationship with anyone, or change the world's perception of you. Either they brought me unwanted attention, or they caused me some sort of emotional trauma.

I'm not Cam. Emotional confusion isn't my thing.

So I did what I was supposed to do. Forcing Massie Block into my mind, I took a sip. I let her stand close to me – too close for comfort. (Not like it was unusual for her to invade personal space when I really didn't want to be touched.) I did what was expected and looked lovingly into her weird brown eyes, smiling softly.

When I looked up, I met a pair of aqua blue. I quickly looked away.

* * *

**EN: The whole point of that was to show internal conflicts with everyone, and maybe even recap some of the past events. Are you banging your head on a keyboard and screaming at your screen because So&So and Whatever aren't together? Say so in a review, and if it fits, it just may happen.**


	2. Pretty Little Liars

**AN: You reviewers out there are completely awesome. And so are you readers. So this is dedicated to anyone who read (but mostly anyone who reviewed) that last chapter. And Sabrina was in BFFN at Abercrombie. She had dreads. FILLER!**

_I'm looking for somebody I can call boo// Looking for the only one I can give my all to// Tell me if it's you, you, you// What you wanna do, do, do? // Make a move  
_~**Promise**, Ciara~

* * *

**Pretty Little Liars**

Alpha Elite** (homepage) -**October 27th

_From the royal purple laptop of Massie Block (be jealous):_

You know that phrase from that movie, _Forest Gump? _The one about life being like a box of chocolates, and how you'll never know what you're going to get. Well, I've got a public service announcement for anyone who's been living life by that rule: it's a lie. Nowadays, they have great and completely inventive ideas, like an _ingredients list._ Meaning, with just one close look, you can tell a whole lot.

Yeah, you can quote me.

Ingredients? Ten percent Dylan Marvil, fifty percent Claire Lyons and Derrick Harrington, two percent Kristen Gregory, a good twenty Nikki Dalton and Cameron Fisher, and eighteen percent Cameron Fisher and Alicia Rivera. (Seems like they're pretty attention-starved nowadays, doesn't it?) Warnings to anyone with possible drama allergies – you might want to break out your inhalers.

We _all _know what happened last year with Cam and Alicia, and by now, maybe even New Girl Nikki (that's her official nickname) knows. (Forgive and forget seems to be one of her beliefs.) But the one thing that's bothering us is this: _what the heck are they supposed to be? _Are they going out? In fact, this is bothering just about all of us in the Inner Circle (new nickname, courtesy of Denver Collins – who seems to think cliques are stupid). I guess the only person who can sum it up properly is Derrick. His term: _'hook-up buddies'_. (Basically him and Olivia back in the day.)

How is it that Dylan went from depressed, and practically grounded for her entire freshman year, and then suddenly become one of those moms from a TV Land show? Honestly, first her mother's throwing a diva fit, making a TV special, and then jetting off to Paris for a month? And now she's got all the loving and care for her baby Whatsit, like she thinks that she's got a chance of being a good mother. Or maybe, is she trying to make up for Baby Daddy Derrick, and Distancing BF Kemp Hurley? Because it seems that they both have one thing in common: neither wants to see baby Whatsit still breathing.

Kristen, Kristen, Kristen. Where have your parents gone wrong? It seems like you've finally moved _off of_ other people's loyal boyfriends, but onto something else: Plovert. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find it in myself to be happy for you. I mean, he likes you, you like him to an extent, but there's just something that feels wrong. Oh. I know. It's the fact that you truly haven't learned to leave well enough alone. Next time you just _happen _to hang around outside of someone's home, make sure you don't bring binoculars. Mrs. Hotz almost called the police on you.

Savor your time still having innocence, Miss Claire, savor it. You and Derrick have just made it past the year mark – and it looks like you've still got that chastity ring on your finger. And Derrick, looks like you're losing it. A month and you still haven't emotionally scarred her? Boy, you're letting yourself go. Could it be, as you remind Claire daily when she catches your eyes lingering for too long? Have you changed? Bull. But I must admit; you're playing the game well. Usually, you toy with people's emotions for about a week. Looks like you're going senile.

XOXO,

Massie Block

**--Claire—**

**Cookie Elson rushed **up to me in the lunch line, panting and brushing strands of her curly black hair out of her face. Resting her tanned hands on my shoulder and using me for support, she managed to catch her breath. Once Cookie realized that I was looking at her questioningly, she smacked a hand to her forehead, giggling like a drunk. I took a step back.

"Claire, everyone's talking about you," she informed me, reaching over to get one of the chicken parmesan sandwiches. Ignoring the cafeteria's angered mutterings about kids cutting in line, Cookie smiled widely, like the real Cookie Monster. "And a lot of people are on your side. They all think that it wasn't right for Massie to make all of those comments."

My eyes widened in shock, and I found myself clapping a la London Tipton. Even though it was a pretty safe bet that Cookie was exaggerating, I felt happy. Despite the fact that the number of people who disagreed with Massie was probably below twenty, I wanted to jump up and down like a dumb blond.

"Stop clapping Claire Bear, you look like Paris Hilton," Cookie snorted, knowing how much I'd come to hate the nickname.

"If you say so, Cookie Monster." I smiled at her innocently, fluttering my fingers. "So is anyone talking about what happened with Dylan?" Suddenly, my bubbly attitude was gone, and I was biting my thumbnail again. Dylan and I were still friends…_right? _I had barely spoken to her after a while, since everything had just sort of fell apart. But I still liked to know what was going on with her and her daughter – I'd come to think of myself as self-appointed god-mother.

"No," Cookie shrugged, typing her lunch pin number in a lightning speed. "At first, a couple of people were giggling about it – like Kori Geldman and Saylene Homer – but it got old. It's kind of obvious that Kemp's awkward around Miracle. I would be too."

I bit down on my thumbnail, harder than before. If I hadn't been crying in the janitor's closet that one day, and if I'd never cried on Derrick's shoulder, would he have stayed for Dylan? Would he have helped her out?

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I tried to focus on what Cookie was saying. My New Year's resolution was _no more moping_ (encouraged by my brother Todd, who stopped by from Dartmouth to make sure I understood his meaning), and I was trying my hardest to stick to it.

"Everyone's being mean to Nikki about it, though. It's like they're trying to play some weird game show. Every time people see her, they bring up all of the things Massie said. Like in math class, first period. When she sat down, Olivia started talking to Sage Redwood, (you know, Saint Sage?), about it. I thought Nikki was going to slap her." Cookie said quietly. Her voice had dropped about twenty decibels lower, and she was no longer facing me, instead, she was scraping the toxic waste known as cafeteria vegetables into the garbage.

"Cookie, you don't have to act like that," I said, not facing her either. Instead of looking directly into her eyes, I just handed my money to the cafeteria lady, and pretended to be interested in the register. "I don't care what happens with Cam, I'm over him."

Cookie turned around, eyes narrowed accusingly. "Are you sure about that? I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings now."

"That's last year," I rolled my eyes, offering my friend a small smile. "He can do whatever he wants; he's not my boyfriend anymore."

_--_

_Despite the fact that the subject was abandoned, Cookie Elson couldn't help but wonder one thing. If Claire didn't care for Cam anymore and really loved Derrick as much as she said, then why was she still wearing the ring her parents had given her when she'd first dated Cam? _

_--_

**--Alicia—**

"**If I get **detention for showing up to lunch late, you owe me," Cam said flatly, like I'd tied him up and dragged him outside against his will. Instead of reminding him who'd willingly walked out and even held the door open for me, I ignored his negative comments and leaned against the wall opposite him.

"Look, I've been _dying _to ask you," I drawled casually. "When did _you_ become a player? That's like…a sign of the apocalypse or something." It was like there was a little Nina shoulder devil telling me what to say. (And what to wear –anything slightly revealing, how to speak - sarcastically, what to eat – whatever I wanted…).

Cam's expression didn't change. It was like someone had taken Claire's smug ex and made a grumpy statue out of him. "I wish I could say the same for your 'transformation'." He put air-quotes around 'transformation'. "Very predictable."

Ha. I'd almost forgotten how funny he could be. Really.

"No need to be so bitter!" I reminded him, folding my arms stubbornly. "What else are people supposed to think when you've got Nikki waiting on your every command? Does she cook your food and massage your feet too?" I dipped into a low bow, like an elegant, highly-paid butler named James.

Apparently, Nikki wasn't a name he wanted to hear. "No. That's not funny. She doesn't deserve it." He paused. "And I never liked her like that."

Awkward silence.

One thing I'd realized since I'd first come back to America was that it really was not easy talking to people you haven't seen in a while. I made the mistake of asking Olivia how she and her football player _hobby_ were doing. Apparently, she didn't see him as frequently, because some random bottom-of-the-pyramid cheerleader (Sabrina was it?) had asked him out, and now he was trying to be a good guy or something like that. She was going through the skater dudes now. Approximately two at a time. I'd asked Massie if she was still fighting with Kristen, and it turned out she didn't have time to look back at that 'boyfriend-snatching, pathetic, (etc)' little attention-starved man.

And then I asked the guy who could probably never look any of the Lyons family in the eye about his love life.

"And I guess since you're allowed to ask me about my exes," Cam said sarcastically, "I can ask about yours. And how was it partying in Spain?" _Was it that obvious?_

"Well it's not like that for your information," I informed him primly. Okay, sure I couldn't do the whole 'I'm a lady' speech (he couldn't do the 'I'm a gentleman' speech either), but he was just being insulting. "I haven't even really dated anyone. Just once. And nothing like last-year either." His mouth closed – I'd beat him to the question. "So, no need to get jealous." I smirked.

He snorted and gave a phony smirk back. "Oh _phew!_ Because that's what I was _so_ worried about – I couldn't get _any sleep at all! _Now I can rest in peace. Thank you for reassuring me."

"Okay, I get it!"

"I couldn't eat for weeks with worry!" He wiped his brow dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Now I can go eat my lunch, and feel satisfied for the first time in a while! And I can quit therapy!"

"Okay, shut up! If you're going to lunch, just go!" I snapped, tired of it. He turned towards the door, but then stopped.

"You're not going in?"

"I don't want to go back. I think I'll go home and pretend to be sick." I didn't know why I wanted to leave so badly, but I just had the feeling it was the right thing to do. Was it the fact that I'd overheard that I was being moved to Claire, Dylan, and Kristen's language class instead? Or that I just didn't feel like hearing all of the _'OMG-C-and-A-disappeared-the-possibilities!' _gossip. "Bye."

"That's truancy," Cam informed me, like I was too stupid to figure that out on my own. Another one of his 'great' –cough- qualities – the fact that I was handicapped in science seemed to mean I was an idiot in his eyes. "And they're cracking down on truants, you know. So you'll be a convict _and_ a slut?"

I flipped him off. He grinned.

**--Dylan—**

"**I really don't **like that new day-care lady," I frowned slightly, glaring off at the cafeteria doors. The sight of the day-care lady, Miss Swanson filled my head – those beady eyes, cheesy smile, and shrunken nose, and I found myself filled with mistrust. "Mira's been with Miss Emma so long, I don't think she'll get used to it."

"Mhm," Kemp barely looked up from the PSP game he was playing underneath the table. He turned up the volume a little bit, so that I could even hear the gunshots as he killed off a gang. He was ignoring me for San Andreas Grand Theft Auto.

"I mean, she was crying yesterday for Miss Emma." I sighed and rested my head on the table, and turned to look at him. "What do you think?"

Kemp groaned and paused the game for a second. "Can we please stop talking about your daughter? I mean, we barely talk about anything else anymore." I tried to ignore his use of the term '_your _daughter', deciding that he was just annoyed. Maybe I had been talking about Miracle a lot lately.

But could I really help that? I spent my nights at home, making sure that everything in my house was child-safe. My mom bought her tons of frilly outfits that she didn't need and hated, like I didn't exist anymore. I hadn't seen a present with _my_ name on it underneath the tree. Everything in mom's eyes had been Miracle, the gift from heaven…_and _her exiled daughter and a boy who'd never actually liked her. Dania chose to ignore us both – complaining about my 'crying baby', and screaming at Miracle whenever she made the mistake of pulling Cupcake's tail. (I swear, my older sister loves her Pomeranian more than she loves anything else on this Earth.)

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" I asked, trying to be open-minded. Talking about Miracle was just salting a wound, a constant reminder that she had Harrington blood running through her veins.

"Us. And how I got us two tickets to see that band you like…" he smiled, waving two Paramore tickets in my face proudly. It wasn't even his kind of music, I knew he'd rather go to see Jay-Z or T.I. And still, he'd bought it specifically because he knew _I_ liked them.

"When is it?" I asked, stars probably shining in my eyes.

"Next Friday."

"Oh…" My happiness faded. "Miracle has a doctor's appointment."

It was his turn to say 'oh'. He pocketed the tickets again, and went back to his game without saying another word. I went back to staring at my lunch.

**--Nikki—**

"**Is this seat **taken?" Meena Fosse asked. Despite the fact that I nodded 'yes', she still dropped her book bag on the chair and sat down. "I hope you don't mind."

All I could do was sigh. After waiting for twenty minutes, I really shouldn't have minded. You can only wait for so long after specifically sending someone a note to sit with you at lunch before you realize that they're not showing up. All lame hope that Cam was just getting chips or something was gone.

Meena was either psychic or she knew my type pretty well, because she predicted what I was so upset about. "Waiting for a guy?" She asked casually, ripping her strawberry milk open like she talked about boy problems all the time. It was practically a universal fact that Meena wasn't allowed to date until she turned sixteen, a result of strict parents.

"Yeah. Cam." Like she didn't know who I meant.

"He left." Meena looked at me curiously, like I was retarded or something. "He ditched with that other girl."

My heart leapt to the top of my ribs, and then leapt off, like it was trying to commit suicide. I stiffened up, feeling slightly nauseas. "What other girl?" I already knew the answer – thanks to Olivia Ryan, who saw herself as my mentor simply because she'd given me the tour of the school. I just didn't want to admit it.

"That Rivera girl. The one he was with last year," Meena rolled her eyes. "Typical. I mean, he's been dating like crazy since she left – she probably doesn't mean anything."

_No, _I corrected her in my mind, _I don't mean anything._

_--_

_Nikki Dalton has always surrounded herself with people. With low self-confidence comes the need to boost it with lots of friends. Her heart was practically for sale, and it had been stolen on occasion. Only this time, it probably wouldn't be so easy to recover._

_--_

**--Kristen—**

**Chris would put **hisarm around my shoulders. Josh would put his arm around Massie's waist. Chris was patient with me, even when I refused to kiss him without even bothering to make up an excuse. Josh had been attached to Massie by the face since their second date. Chris was polite, and there for me. Josh knew just when to shrink away from Massie to avoid looking bad. Chris delivered my favorite flowers – tiger lilies – whenever he saw fit. Josh was his own present.

I had it all. What I was supposed to want. The things I'd dreamed about getting from other guys my whole life. Even back in the day, when Griffin Hastings picked dandelions for every girl, telling them they looked pretty in their new dresses for kindergarten. (Before he learned the pain of repetitive rejection, and that it was better to break the hearts of others.)

And I'd finally gotten it.

Yet, I was miserable.

"Easy," my cousin Layne Abeley said simply, in between bites of her cafeteria chicken sandwich. "You're greedy as what."

I wished that was the reason.

"Thanks for making me feel better," I snapped. "Aren't you supposed to give me some fairy tale advice about putting love into the wrong guy? And then aren't you supposed to go on about how my true love would recognize our connection some day?"

"What is this, a teen movie?" Layne said, disgust dripping from her voice. "That stupid trash they replay on Disney Channel for five days until there's a sing-along version? Uh, no. Chica, this is real life."

I rolled my eyes. I'd heard that about ten thousand times.

"_Honey, this is real life. You can't always just say no – you have to surround yourself with good influences."_

"_Dios, this is real life, Katrina. You can't get a man to notice you dressed like a nun."_

"_Puh-lease, this is _real life_, not the Real World. You'll have to get over it."_

"Okay, okay!" I said, only to stop Layne from going on. I hated how she was so much wiser than me. "I get it."

She shrugged, silver bangles clanging together loudly. "Only trying to help."

Funny thing was, her 'help' wasn't helping much.

* * *

**EN: Chapter three is officially dedicated to whoever reviews this one first. And they'll possibly get to request two prompts. So R&R!**


	3. Never A Dull Moment

**EN: Chapter three is officially dedicated to whoever reviews this one first. And they'll possibly get to request two prompts. So R&R!**

**AN: This is dedicated to Sydney for reviewing first! Or as most of you know her, emeraldeyes101. And the prompts she requested are: a missing item, and lollipops. Random, huh? :] No Nikki this time (for now), as she doesn't fit into (has nothing to do with) this little (big) plot twist (turn of events)**

_I'll run away with you// If you want me too…  
_~**Runaway Love, **Ludacris ft. Mary J. Blige~

* * *

**Never a Dull Moment**

**--Kristen—**

**Whenever I needed **to think, there were ultimately two places I would go. Usually, I didn't have too many problems in my life. Any little issues could be solved with a day of iced lattes, and giggling at the antics of my friends. My other 'happy place' if you wanted to get all 'ABC Family movie' about it, was at my aunt Vivica's house – practically my second home. Normally, I'd only go there for problems that my friends wouldn't understand, like when that 'meanie Kemp' was teasing me on the playground, and it would take loads of begging to get my mom to drive me there.

But, for some reason, I decided that I didn't want to ask. I really don't know what came over me, but once I realized that my mom had ditched me again to brag about her new kitchen furnishings with her religious-freak-buddies, I decided that I could go on my own.

So that was why I was standing at the bus stop at six AM, cell phone off, duffel bag in hand, just waiting. I folded and refolded the change in my pocket, wondering if the bus driver would ask me for my age, or if he would think that I was running away. Hopefully he wouldn't, because I really didn't have an answer for that.

The bus pulled up in front of the stop, flashing different cities in New Jersey on it, like the Polar Express. Feeling grown up, I got out my change, waiting patiently as the old lady in front of me fussed about the difference between nickels and dimes _– "It's all the same to my tired old eyes!"._

My grip on my sleepover bag tightened, and I could see all of the faces of the people I'd come to know flashing in front of me, a movie in my head. I saw Claire's worried look, eyes shining with concern. My mom's stern annoyance, but pain nonetheless. Dylan's shock – her jaw would drop to the floor. Layne's sarcastic eye-roll, she probably would've seen it coming. After all, Vivica was her aunt too. Cousin Chris would probably pick me up, throw me over his shoulder, and carry me back home, kicking and screaming. I could picture Alicia's reaction, the shock and hurt, but it quickly melted away to the _new_, unimproved Alicia, who would merely look disgusted. (_This isn't an ABC movie, Kris; you can't do something stupid like that.)_

And Josh…would look confused. As always.

"Change?" The driver asked, once he'd kicked the old woman off of the bus.

I dropped the money into the dispenser, a sense of dread overcoming me. There was no turning back now.

_--_

_Chris Plovert faithfully called his girlfriend every morning, just to make sure that things were okay. Imagine his surprise when instead, his call went straight to voicemail. Kristen Gregory never turned her phone off…._

_--_

**--Dylan—**

**  
"Dylan if you **don't get that crying baby to shut up…!" Dania's angry voice cut through my sleep, trailing off threateningly. She appeared in my doorway, looking like hell had frozen over…and then decided to wear a hair net and avocado mask to sleep.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" I snapped, looking at her for a brief second before continuing to search for Miracle's food. At five-two in the morning, I was pretty disoriented, and hearing Dania was the _last_ thing I needed. Of course, nobody cared to stop and consider my feelings; all they cared about was shutting my child up.

Dania pushed past me, marching over to glare at Mira, the cucumbers she'd had on her eyes slid further down her cheekbones, and her hair threatened to pop out of its rollers. "_Shut up!" _She screamed, like that was supposed to quiet her down. Mira took one look at her Auntie – (who looked, in the words of Kemp, a hot mess) – she quieted down.

Only to burst out laughing.

Dania, in her fit of rage, stormed away to leave Mira cracking up in her crib. It was only when my sister left that Mira resumed crying.

"I'm coming!" I reminded her softly, trying to twist open the lid to the peachy Gerber _thing _I'd just found on my desk. But, just as I'd wrenched it open, my phone went off, the soothing sounds of _Big Girls Don't Cry_ driving me up the wall.

CALL FROM: [KRIS G. HOME]

"Hello?" I asked, not bothering to check the caller ID. If it was a telemarketer, I'd simply put the phone to Mira's crying mouth. I'm sure the satellite dish network would take that as a '_don't call me' _request.

"Hello?" Another voice asked indignantly. There was a pause as Mira continued to bawl her eyes out, and Dania let out a shriek from her room. Cupcake bolted out of there, unable to take it any longer. There were some incoherent mutterings. "I'll call back later then."

Before the speaker even had a chance to finish their sentence, I'd hung up, spooning the food into her mouth. She quieted down and looked at me with big, doe eyes as if to ask why I kept her waiting so long. Like I'd failed a simple task – she probably had a hunger headache from eating too late.

_There's no feeling worse than failure._

--

**--Claire—**

**Just when I **was waking up, I happened to check my cell phone to see that I had four missed calls. One was from Derrick – he'd left a message saying that I couldn't pick him up from home for our whole dinner-date thing, and he postponed it. The other two were wrong numbers, apparently Hannah forwarded some Chace Crawford photo bucket pictures to Raine, Haritha, and Sophie; and Maddie wanted to know if either Lola or Sydney knew if she'd left her bracelet at Amy's house.

And the last call was from 'KRISTEN G. HOME'.

At first, I'd thought that we were getting ready to have some corny reunion. Okay, I really could live without speaking to Alicia ever again, but the idea of becoming friends with Dylan and Kristen again was a nice thought. So, when I redialed the number, I was shining with hope. I really didn't expect Mrs. Gregory to pick up.

"This is Claire, right?" Mrs. Gregory snapped, sounding incredibly bitter. It was like someone had shoved a thorn-covered stick up her butt, and refused to help her remove it. "I called hours ago. What took so long?"

"Um," I wasn't really sure how to respond to that without offending Kristen's _'high-maintenance' _mom. "I was sleeping."

"Where's Kristen?" Mrs. Gregory snapped, like I hadn't even spoken at all. If I was sleeping, why would I have known where she was? "I called the pregnant one, and she didn't know, and Layne didn't either. So I'm calling you. Where is she?" It wasn't a question.

"What do you mean? She's not with me – I haven't talked to her in the longest while."

Mrs. Gregory harrumphed. "Are you sure you're not covering?"

"Why, what happened?"

"She went missing this morning. I see you're completely ignorant about it, so I'll try someone else." _Click!_

My phone dropped out of my hands and landed on the carpet with a small thud.

_--_

_Martha Gregory was what her snooty garden club buddies liked to call a 'responsible mother'. Meaning that she was strict, demanding, over protective, and downright unpleasant to anyone who she found a negative influence. Basically, everyone who didn't behave like angelic church mice was on her 'negative' list. (Don't get her started on those Riveras…)_

_--_

**--Alicia—**

**When you first **wake up, there are probably a multitude of things you want to see. Like a few feet of snow covering the roads, and therefore making it impossible to get to school. Maybe you want to wake up in your palace-like room, and see some sign of people caring for you, a note, and your mom waking you up with breakfast downstairs, something. (With the exception of me and Olivia of course, who practically lived alone.) One thing you don't want to see is that you've received a call from Mrs. Gregory.

"Get up."

The voice scared me half to death – I'd assumed that someone had broken into the house and that I was going to be held hostage. It was only when I rubbed my eyes, shaking a little that I saw the speaker wasn't wearing a ski mask, or carrying a weapon. My dad – Antonio Rivera was there.

That was weird.

"Your mother went to work, so I dropped by to check on you. You've got a call," he dropped my phone onto the bed next to me, before turning around to inspect something else. It was like waking up to see E.T. in your house, only worse. At least E.T. knew how to make his phone call and leave.

"Hello?" I asked, still unable to tear my eyes away from the man in my room.

"_Well it's about time you picked up?" _Mrs. Gregory's voice blared through the other line, short and sharp. It was like a dagger on metal. "I mean, I've been calling everyone, running all around the town since five in the morning! The least someone could do is _answer their phone!"_

What did the fact that she had too much free time on her hands have to do with me?

"So…?" I asked, already knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

"So where's Kristen!" Mrs. Gregory barked. "_So? _I swear, are those your best manners? (Mutter irresponsible mother murmur grumble flighty father mumble!) All I want is to know where my daughter is?"

I didn't know where Kristen was. So I hung up the phone. She'd get the message.

* * *

**EN: R&R Lovelies. Unless you don't like being called that. Then R&R Un-Lovely People. **


	4. Trick or Cheat pt 1

**AN: Before anyone can ask if people should be more worried about Kristen, it's the first day. Most people wouldn't think so negatively unless she'd been missing for a longer time. Like, at first, people would assume they went off somewhere before they assumed that something was horribly wrong.**

_Where my party-party-party-p-party people at?  
_~**Party People, **Nelly ft. Fergie~

* * *

**Trick-Or-Cheat (part one)**

**--Dylan—**

**Almost immediately, I **made my way over to the snack table, not wanting to face anyone at the party. Sure, Kemp had dragged me out to Olivia's pre-Halloween party just the other day and sure, I'd agreed to come with him tonight, leaving Mira with a babysitter, but once I actually set foot in the Hotchkiss gymnasium, I was suddenly aware of how much I was dreading socialization. I wasn't redhead-girl-who's-friends-with-Kris-Claire-and-Leesh anymore. I was 'Juno', 'Amy Jeurgans', or anything else like that.

Kemp clearly didn't understand that.

"Come on, it's at _school_," he groaned heavily, trying to gently pull my arm away from the cookie I'd been reaching for. "Nobody can say anything to you – there are chaperones _everywhere_."

"Olivia Ryan still manages to sneak off with random boys during these chaperone-filled parties, doesn't she?" I reminded him angrily. "And I don't want to talk to anyone."

Kemp just rolled his eyes and sighed, like he couldn't fathom why in the world I would want to hide my face. It wasn't my fault that he was born a people-person, and I was better off with a small group? And he was my small group, so I saw no reason to leave him behind. Evidently, he didn't feel the same way.

"Kempalemp!" Olivia's voice came from behind, and soon she had tackled Kemp from behind, Alicia trailing after her. The two of them were probably having a whole lot of trouble walking in their gold stilettos, which matched their ironic angel costumes. Their halos were bent, their white dresses ended way too short, and their glittery wings just made them look shorter. Therefore, she didn't _tackle _him per se, she merely fell. Or so I tried to convince myself.

"Livs!" He yelled out, nearly falling over. Olivia let go of him and took a step back, shaking her head at his costume.

"I thought you were going to be Zorro, why is your hair so messed up? And what's with the gold contacts?" Her eyes rested on me, registering disgust. One look at my mousy brown wig and blue sweater and Olivia snorted. "Bella and Edward? Gross." She and Alicia snickered, and Kemp pretended to be offended. Was I missing out on some huge inside joke?

"No, I just did this for my girl," Kemp smiled, putting an arm around me. I smirked a little in response.

Alicia looked at the gold watch around her wrist. Olivia pointed down her throat. "Boo!" Alicia flashed him a thumbs-down.

I wanted to say something, but it was like I'd lost all ability to speak. Could you really blame me? I was there, dressed up as a character I wasn't even sure if I liked anymore, watching my distancing boyfriend chat with _Olivia Ryan_ and _Alicia. _Not to mention the fact that I'd chosen Claire's side, even after all Alicia and I had been through.

"That's so Cam and Claire," Olivia snorted, just as Cam happened to walk by. He froze, and gave her a death glare. She fluttered her eyelashes and called after him, "Love you too!"

"No it's not," Kemp groaned. It was like I wasn't even there! I cleared my throat, but not one of them paid me any attention. Was that what it felt like to be Kristen? "I wouldn't cheat on her." Alicia coughed heavily, and he nudged her in the stomach. "Shut up!"

"Ouch!" Alicia whined, clutching her stomach. Kemp said something along the lines of _that's what you get, _but I wasn't listening anymore. Even as Olivia seized hold of his arm and led him over to where his soccer buddies stood (they waved him over encouragingly), something occurred to me – something I hadn't noticed before.

Kemp was a people person, and therefore, he hung out with anyone and everyone. He would always have that group of friends who wanted to drag him off for something. I was quieter, and therefore kept my true friends limited. I was always on the lookout for those people I just clicked with, expecting them to last forever. Nobody wanted to drag Juno off somewhere.

Nobody.

_--_

_A therapist once tried to tell Mr. and Mrs. Block, Harrington, Rivera, and Ryan that their habits may not have been healthy for their kids – and could have future effects. The poor woman was sued for verbal harassment, fired from her job, and told to go to hell._

_--_

**Claire—**

**It was only **seven o clock, and my night was already filled with disappointments. Instead of dressing up as a prince to match the whole Cinderella thing I had going on, Derrick had decided that he would do better dressed up as a pirate. Apparently, Jack Sparrow was ten times manlier than Prince Charming; therefore, Prince Charming was not worthy. I wasn't able to complain about it with Cookie because it turned out some dude – Griffin or something like that – dressed as a gangster had asked her to dance. And, not to mention that I was apparently forbidden from asking Derrick why in the world I couldn't stop by his house to pick him up.

"I don't see why I couldn't have," I sighed, batting my eyelashes up at him. Usually, when I gave others the puppy dog pout, they crumbled – putty into my hands. It was like it made the truth come out. "Maybe then I'd meet your parents."

"Claire? Drop it," he ordered, not even bothering to look at me. His grip on his glass tightened. "And things come up. I'm not Cam; I can't be there every minute of every day. It doesn't work like that."

I wasn't too happy with his answer. Especially since he felt the need to remind me of how close I'd _thought _I was to Cam. Yeah, we practically spent every minute of every day together. Todd knew when he was coming, my mom set out extra plates for him, and my dad knew when to turn off the TV so he could be there to give him the _'I-know-where-you-live_' speech. Kristen would squeal for me, Dylan would just nod, and Alicia would totally lose interest, swearing that if she heard his name one more time, she'd smack me.

Oh. The irony.

"I'm just worried," I admitted with a reluctant sigh. "I don't want things to go wrong with us."

Derrick smirked at me, eyes dancing with mischief that I couldn't really decode. "What a coincidence. Me neither."

I rested my head on his shoulder, smiling to myself. Things were going to go right with this relationship. We would last as long as possible – maybe even going to the same college. When I was younger, I'd planned out my whole life to the T – even picking out kid's names – one would be my own, and the other two would be adopted from third world countries like Sierra Leone and Sri Lanka. My marriage would take place on May eighth, the day sounded just right somehow.

I was pulled out of my short-lived moment by Dylan, who seemed to materialize out of nowhere. I removed my head from Derrick's shoulder to look at her, confused. Dylan and I hadn't exactly been in touch for a year now – what did she want.

"I know you're the last person I should talk to about this," Dylan said, never once looking at me. Her gaze (or glare) was fixed on Derrick, and you couldn't have cut the tension with an electric power saw. For a fraction of a second, she glanced at me, showing that her complaint was directed at me, and not Derrick. "But I really need someone who can listen."

"Oh, woe is me!" Derrick cried out in a whiny voice. He put a hand to his forehead like he was going to faint. "I'm a pregnant teenager! Everyone I know ditched me, and just when I thought I found my true lover he starts ignoring me! What am I to do?"

"_Derrick," _I sighed. I knew he and Dylan hated each other (Miracle _was_ his child after all.)

"Great catch Claire!" Dylan snapped at me, her face going red. She gave Derrick a look with more venom in it than a snake bite. "Maybe I'll just talk to someone else instead." She pushed past Derrick as hard as she could, trying to keep her head up as Derrick called names after her like 'Juno'.

"Derrick, she needed help," I said, feeling pity rise within me. What if it had been something important?

"Whatever, nobody told her to keep it. She could've gotten an abortion but she didn't. Not my fault." I'd never seen Derrick so insensitive. He walked past me, mumbling something about getting a drink.

I looked after Dylan's retreating head, wanting desperately to say something. But, no sounds would come out, even though my mouth opened. And it was then that I was struck by figurative lightning. I had to get us back together, and soon.

_--_

_Sick and tired of waiting for Kristen to show up, Chris Plovert happened by chance to grab a seat next to an equally annoyed girl, who'd grown tired of her crush being dragged off every time she tried to say hello. Figuring he may as well do something, Chris turned to the girl._

"_Hi, I'm Chris."_

_The girl smiled at him. "Hi, Nacelle Dalton – but you can call me Nikki."_

--

**Nikki—**

"**So what're you **supposed to be anyway?" I asked Chris, eyeing his costume with suspicion. Not to say that it was an ugly costume, it just didn't work for him. Maybe it was the absence of a rose in his mouth? "Are you Zorro or something?

"Actually," he sighed heavily. "I'm just a bullfighter. My girlfriend was supposed to go as Carmen, but she never showed up." I could hear the sadness in his voice, and I felt bad for him too. He sounded like one of those Edward Cullen guys – the ones who would do anything for their girls.

"Oh." I thought of something else to say. "Couple-costumes suck. I was trying to ask a guy to go as a punk with me. Turns out he's a biker." I rolled my eyes, knowing the costume was just an excuse for Cam to wear his brother's jacket anyway. I hated the thing – and I frequently wondered if he ever took it off to wash it.

"Ouch." Chris thought for a second, as the song changed to something even faster. "Look, we've both been ditched. You wanna have some fun anyway?"

I looked around the room. Nobody was on the dance floor. The 'cool' kids were all hanging around, laughing and talking. The others were in their respective groups, just hanging around, being boring. The place seriously needed life.

"Let's give a dead party CPR," I grabbed Chris's hand and we both stood up, heading over to the dance floor. I felt all eyes on me as I tried to look good while dancing; even reciting some of the wilder moves I'd seen when flipping between music channels. Chris seemed somewhat impressed, like he was trying to match me.

"Dance off!" Chris suddenly cried out, flipping into some crazy footwork he'd probably seen when watching BET with Kemp Hurley. And then, just as people started gathering around and chanting his name, he tripped. And he fell right on his face.

Laughing, I helped him up; trying to remember when I'd last felt that way.

The funny thing was; I couldn't.

**Alicia—**

"**Have any of **you guys heard from Kristen?" Josh piped up from behind his plastic cup. The laughter stopped immediately, and all eyes fell on him. Even though most people's eyes had narrowed at the mention of Kristen's name, no one's glare was as venomous as Massie's. "I mean, because I heard that she disappeared for a whole day now."

Most of us just shrugged. It wasn't like Kristen would actually do something bad, so what was the problem? The worst that could've possibly happened was what happened to Massie a little too often – she got drunk and then ended up in Josh's car, as he drove her home to get some aspirin and anti-hangover medicines. Kristen Gregory didn't get into trouble.

"What could've possibly happened?" Olivia drawled in a bored monotone. "What, do you think she met someone on the internet and went missing?" When he sat up in alarm, she shook her head, just to remind him that she wasn't serious.

"This doesn't feel right," he admitted, looking down into his cup.

"Just drop it," Massie commanded. She had a silent glaring fight with her boyfriend before turning to everyone else. "Look, this party is really boring. I know some seniors who're throwing a Halloween party of their own. Who's in?"

Olivia just shrugged carelessly. I didn't think she wanted to leave her spot – there was a good view of Derrick at the snack table from where she stood. "Excuse me for a second." She got up, ditching her cup to walk over.

"_Uh-oh," _Cam said sarcastically. Kemp snickered.

"Don't hate, appreciate," Olivia reminded him, pinching his cheek roughly.

"Well since she's gone, you know everyone else will leave," I said. The others nodded, knowing that it was true. Massie stood up and grabbed her boyfriend's arm, looking for the nearest exit. Cam lumbered away, going who knows where. Kemp stayed in his seat.

"Hiding?" I smirked. "That's not very manly."

"So you would know about manliness?" He responded calmly. His eyes scanned the room in search of Dylan.

"I've been with enough manly guys to know."

Kemp snorted. "I'd hardly call Fisher manly."

"…Sure. Let's go with him." When I saw the look he was giving me, I slapped his arm. "I'm kidding, okay?"

So we continued laughing and talking. Making jokes about anything and everything. And Dylan kept watching, looking ready to pounce at any moment.

_--_

"_Let me guess, she wanted to meet the folks?" Olivia Ryan asked smugly, pouring herself some of the punch. Derrick Harrington nodded at his ex. "So, when are you planning on telling her the truth?"_

"_Ha. That's funny." Derrick put his paper plate down and walked away from the snack table, wondering the same thing._

_--_


	5. Trick or Cheat pt 2

**AN: You reviewers out there are incredible, seriously. So this is dedicated to all of you! Anyway, I hope this confuses you all pairings-wise. –Innocent smile-, it's much more interesting with a bunch of possibilities. {First Reviewer of Chapt 4: **people aren't perfect**}**

**BONUS OF THE CHAPTER: CAM POV (Will replace Alicia.)**

* * *

_No it's much better to face these kinds of things//With a sense of poise and rationality  
_~**I Write Sins Not Tragedies, **Panic! At the Disco ~

**Trick-Or-Cheat pt 2.**

**--Dylan—**

**I am not **a stalker. No matter how psycho and stalker-ish this might sound, let me just remind the world that I am not Edward Cullen, and I don't watch people sleep because I think they smell good. And I would've never followed Kemp like that under any normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances, okay? One, he'd completely ditched the party, and left me behind too. You would think that hanging out with Olivia Ryan and co., he would get enough partying. Apparently, he doesn't. I blame peer pressure. And two, he'd been talking with Alicia for about thirty minutes. Maybe if things had gone differently last year, then I would've been okay with that.

I wasn't.

Pushing my way through a crowd that seemed to be moving in the same direction, I finally found Kemp. He was standing with Derrick and one of the random soccer boys from our school, talking about a lawnmower incident.

"And so then I come home to see my dad being chased around the yard by a _lawnmower_ that's working on its own!" He paused to let the raucous laughter calm down. Either I missed something very funny, or they've all had a drink too many. "So he's screaming and running, and the lawnmower corners him, right? So he picks up his wrench, and throws it-" Kemp stopped talking when he realized that I'd arrived. "Oh hi Dylan, I didn't know you came."

Typical. "Oh I was just in the neighborhood," I said innocently, face blazing. I could _feel_ the angered flush spreading across my face. I was probably redder than my hair. "And I was just wondering where my date had gone. So I guessed maybe here. With his…" I eyed Derrick with disgust. "Soccer buddies."

Sure, I sounded like a nagging housewife, but I was annoyed. Stressed out, pissed off, whatever you want to call it.

"I told that Kori girl to tell you where I was going," Kemp said, frowning. "I didn't think you'd want to come. You didn't look like you were in a partying mood. And I kind of didn't want to put you and Leesh in the same room."

Derrick snorted, mumbling something about a catfight. I chose to ignore him. "Oh _Alicia's_ here?" I emphasized her name, just to point out that I didn't like my boyfriend calling her 'Leesh'. "I don't see her."

"She's dancing with some guy," the other boy smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at Derrick. The two of them burst out laughing. I wondered what I ever did see in that boy.

"So, uh," Kemp said a little awkwardly. "Who wants more punch? I do!" He snatched the boy's cup and disappeared into the crowd. Before the thought could even pop up into my head, Derrick blurted it out.

"He's avoiding you."

"Why don't you just mind your own business? Does the fact that you ditched Claire mean _you're _avoiding her?" I snapped. "No. So just go back to your life. We're fine."

"No you're not!" Derrick and the random boy chimed. Was this amusing to them? "You're pushing your stupid baby on him. Why would he want some other dude's baby?"

That almost brought tears to my eyes. "Did you forget who the father was?" I shrieked at Derrick, who remained emotionless. It was unfair – I was a wreck, a bundle of nerves, and he was living his life calmly and coolly, with a new girlfriend and everything. Why wasn't he suffering?

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. "But I have nothing to do with you _or_ your child."

My fists clenched, trembling at my sides. My eyes narrowed into slits, even though tears stung at the back of them. Now I know how Claire felt whenever Olivia teased her. Ha, Derrick and Olivia were just like two peas in a pod. "You don't think you know who the dad is?" I demanded. He shook his head, all joking gone. "Well then, I'll just have to prove it to you."

"Where are you going – _Maury?" _Derrick asked.

"_You are not the father!" _The random boy felt the need to put in a good Maury impression.

"No," I shook my head, regretting my decision instantly. My mom had purposely been avoiding me – pretending like I didn't exist. "The Daily Grind."

--

_Merri-Lee Marvil loved Maury Povich, and all that he did. In fact, she had several copycat episodes, where she "helped out poor teenage mothers" by putting their alleged baby daddies on the spot. She was more than willing to embarrass someone else's "irresponsible" daughter, but her own…?_

_--_

**--Claire—**

"**I want to **go home," I pouted, tugging on Derrick's sleeve. I really didn't see a need to come to this stupid party; the one at school was just fine. Unlike the rest of his friends, I didn't think a party every weekend was a good idea – didn't they ever get bored of doing the same stuff? "Can we _please_ leave?"

Derrick took a long drink before answering me. His breath smelled like beer. "It's just getting started, babe. Come on, why don't you just give it a chance? Relax." Two of the older guys he'd been talking too cheered their agreement, toasting their red plastic cups. They smelled like cheap cologne and cigarette smoke, two smells that didn't really mix well together.

I tried to ignore them. "I have to be home in thirty minutes," I pointed to the clock warningly, hoping that would bring him back to his senses. He was especially careful with parents, I noticed, and a little wary.

"Come on Kleh," he said, still in his drunken stupor. "Just relax, have a drink why don't you?"

There was no use arguing with him. Instead of trying to scream over the music, I just turned down the cup he offered me, and pushed my way through the crowd, reasoning that I'd call a cab. What I'd say when my dad asked why Derrick hadn't dropped me off, I wasn't sure about. But all I knew was that I had to get out of there.

I moved past several couples that looked like they were practically glued to each other, a bunch of guys who were having a chugging contest, girls checking out said guys, etc. It was more like some frat boy movie than any of the parties I'd ever been to. My eardrums had probably shattered twenty minutes ago, and it was too hot to have so many people close together. Finding a quiet place to call for a cab was going to suck. I'd given up in only a matter of minutes.

"Excuse me," I tapped a random guy's shoulder. "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

When he turned around, I realized that it was a mistake. His eyes were glazed over, he could barely move in a straight line, and if he breathed on a match, he would most likely burn the house down. "And how may I help you tonight, ma'am?" He slurred.

"Never mind," I sighed, wrinkling my nose in disgust. He was breathing right in my face, and I could almost see the green Heineken clouds floating out of his chapped mouth. "I'll just be going now."

"Where you going, gurl?" The guy grabbed my arm, leering. "You look too banging' to be here alone." He was right in my ear. "I can show you the bathroom, or better yet the…" he trailed off when he caught sight of something, his grip on my arm tightening.

By then, my eyes were squeezed shut, and I was literally thinking through every prayer to every god that had ever been thought of alphabetically. I was up to Hermes when somebody saved me. And it wasn't the person I would've wanted.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" His voice was clam and casual, like he was talking about the weather.

"What, is this your girl?" The guy asked, not letting go of me. I still kept my eyes shut, hoping and praying that he would say yes. He didn't disappoint. The guy loosened his grip, and I'm guessing that he either respected Cam for some reason, or knew that Harris was muscular enough to bully the star quarterback. Probably the second one. Either way, I'm guessing that he nodded, because the random guy let go and backed off, to go chase after some cheerleader instead.

And then there were two.

"So, uh…" Cam shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked at the ground. "Need someone to drop you off?"

**--Cam—**

**Harris didn't take **his time picking us up. And he didn't ask any questions either. After standing awkwardly with Claire for about ten seconds, we hadn't even said one word to each other. It was kind of scary how quiet things were.

"So," Harris was the first one to break the silence. "What's up with the quiet? You know I can't stand it."

Claire giggled softly, but it was probably more out of politeness than actually being happy. I still couldn't find my voice.

"So, what do you want me to tell mom, Cammie Boy? The school dance ended like, an hour ago. Want me to say that I took you out for ice cream or something?" Harris smirked at me, knowing how much I hated it when he treated me like I was ten years old. The whole 'taking me out for ice cream' thing was part of it.

"I don't know, just don't say anything," I grumbled. There was no doubting that my mom would ask. She'd kind've gotten over protective when she noticed that Derrick (who she saw as the perfect role model, despite his love child and numerous open relationships) stopped coming over.

"You could say that it was because of me," Claire offered up. "I can say that my dad invited you in or something." How she knew that I hadn't exactly mentioned our breakup to my parents was beyond me. "Then you guys won't get in trouble." She was talking without looking at me.

"Just saved me from playing twenty questions," Harris snorted. I didn't say anything.

There was another awkward silence as we pulled into Claire's driveway. Her dad was outside, probably waiting to have a nice, violent conversation with Derrick. The relief on his face when he saw Harris's car was too obvious. Claire left without a goodbye.

"Hey, how come she doesn't stop by like she used to?" Harris asked oh-so-innocently as he pulled out of the driveway, honking once at Mr. Lyons.

"Why don't you shut up and keep your eyes on the road?"

--

_Back in the olden days of middle school; the presence of Cameron Fisher at the Lyons estate was custom. Judi Lyons even set out extra plates on Saturdays, making sure that she had plenty of his favorite soda. Jay Lyons knew to turn off the football games on TV long enough for a semi-polite hi. Todd Lyons knew to walk by his sister's room every ten seconds, "just in case". Everything was thrown out of whack when Claire Lyons began seeing Derrick Harrington, who'd never so much as seen the house, coming up with an excuse whenever parents were involved in things. Jay and Judi didn't like that._

--

**--Kristen—**

KGREGORY CELL [INBOX]

[10 NEW TEXT MESSAGES]

**JHOTZ: **hey where are u? u better get down here fast, nikki dalton's flirting w/ your man. :) but seriously, show up.

**MOMCELL: **Kristen, where are you? I don't know what you think you're doing, but you need to come home within the next two hours or I'm calling the police. I know you're just hiding from me, so come out now. I refuse to play hide-and-seek.

**JHOTZ: **dude. R u like, ignoring me on purpose. Whatever, forget u then. :b

**MOMCELL: **Kristen, this isn't funny. Turn your phone on and answer!

**MOMCELL: **Kristen Michelle Gregory! I'm warning you! I know you're not answering your phone on purpose. This isn't funny in the least.

**CLYONS: **hey, Kris, I know it's been a while. I kind of wondered if you'd like to stop by sometime; I'm inviting a few people over. This isn't a setup or anything, I just want to know. :) Please? XOXO- Claire Bear

**MOMCELL: **Kristen, you have ten minutes to return one of my messages before I call the police. I thought I'd raised you better than to just go off like that. You're with some boy, aren't you?

**RESTRICTED#: **Text LOVE to 42444 to see if you and that special someone are a match made in heaven! One-hundred percent accurate! Completely free! Text LOVE today!

**MOMCELL: **Kristen, I've called the police. This is so embarrassing, I hope you're happy!

**JHOTZ: **What, are u sick today or something? U missed a lot of fun so haha.

I turned my phone back out, not exactly in the mood to reply to any of them. All of the messages ended up in the recycling bin.

* * *

**R&R Foohs. Or Smart People. Or In-Betweens. There, you're all included. 0;)**


	6. Hot N' Cold

**AN: What do you think is going on with Derrick? Is it the simple 'he's cheating', or something more? ****Either way, you'll find out! :] Chapter Bonus: Do events count? No, Nikki's just returning to us. For Emina Story Time!**

'_Cuz you're hot and you're cold//You're yes and you're no//You're in and you're out//You're up and you're down//It's wrong and it's right//It's black and it's white//We fight we break up//We kiss we make up  
_~**Hot N' Cold; **Katy Perry~

**Hot N' Cold**

_When Kristen Gregory appeared on Eyewitness News's "Protect Our Children" campaign ad, along with the haunting question: have you seen me, Hotchkiss nearly broke down. Even Massie Block, who'd taken it as her personal job to ruin the girl's life ended up spitting an entire glass worth of champagne all over her absent parent's big-screen TV._

**--Dylan—**

**I slammed the** door behind me, kicking off my shoes and hurrying towards the kitchen, praying that I'd made it home before my mom had. Barely noticing the vase I knocked over when I threw my old book bag down on the floor in my frantic haste, I skidded into the kitchen on my socks, just barely avoiding a water spill that Mira had obviously created.

When I saw that she wasn't starving to death because of Dania's stubbornness (_"I don't care if you're going out after school for thirty minutes or for thirty days – I'm not watching your kids! Don't you have a baby daddy for this?"), _I relaxed, letting out a loud sigh.

When I saw that it _wasn't _Dania by the sink, ripping paper towels to clean it up, I nearly choked on that sigh.

My mom turned around to look at me, tapping her foot on the tiled floor with a look of resentfulness on her face. Mira dropped her animal crackers and made a small gasping sound, like she was just as surprised as I was. It was like a bad movie, where everything slowed down, and nobody could find any words to say.

"Um, I'm home…" I stammered, voice wavering. My mom smiled her cheesy _man-I-hate-this-guest-star's-attitude-but-the-show-must-go-on _smile. And then a vein popped in her neck, and she exploded.

"_DYLAN MARIE MARVIL!" _She shrieked, blowing me back by sheer force. "_How many times have we been through this? If you wanted to keep her, you had to take care of her!"_

Even though it was useless to argue, I still tried to find the words. "But I do! I even started washing cars just for extra money – remember?" The look on my mom's face clearly said that my car washing money couldn't have bought a pack of gum; and that she knew I'd been using hers. "And I even bought her some new clothes!" I held up the little yellow sundress, even though mom probably knew I'd used her money to buy it too.

"_There's more to taking care of a child than buying it stuff!" _She continued to erupt, Kool-Aid red hair adding to the whole volcano theme. If she'd been yelling at someone else, I would've busted out laughing. _"A child needs love, care, and attention! Not dumping it off on every babysitter and family member you can find! This is why all your goldfish died!"_

I just stood there, frozen to my spot.

"Look," my mom said a little quieter, running a hand through her hair. "When I said Miracle was your responsibility, I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. I meant it was your responsibility to find a good couple to adopt her. And I've been on the road for about a month, and I find out this is her condition?"

I looked at my child, my babbling, playful child, and felt like I was seeing her for the first time.

Her hair was tangled, and needed washing. Her nails needed cutting, badly so, and she shivered a little bit every time one of her nails brushed against her face. Mira's eyes still shone with love; the love I'd wanted so badly. But they also had a kind of sadness to them. And she appeared to have lost weight.

I wasn't a neglectful mother, I tried my hardest! I was doing it on my own…. I could still pull through.

"I don't want to give her away," I said, glaring at my mom with venom I'd never felt before. I walked over to Mira, a warm feeling spreading through me as she flashed me a huge smile and grabbed on to my hair. "I'll get a job, I'll do _something_. But I'm not giving her away."

My mom blinked at me.

I watched her with smugness, sure that she would understand. There _was_ a reason why my oldest sister who was off in Stanford, Deirdre was only sixteen years apart from my mom. And she hadn't given her precious first-born up. Of course, Deirdre had been the perfect, 4.0 GPA daughter. Dania had been the perfect socialite. I'd been the perfect screw-up; and she loved us all.

"Well then, if you want to keep her, then I guess you'll have to raise her." She tapped her chin with a pink nail, rolling her new "chic" violet contacts.

"Right," I nodded.

"If you want to take responsibility, and _not _just dump her on anyone you can find, you'll need extra time to adjust to this."

"Yeah." This was too easy…and too suspicious.

"So, I guess you'll just have to drop out of school," my mom concluded finally.

"Yea- wait, what? I can't do that!" I screeched, tears brewing in the corners of my eyes. I couldn't just give up on my whole entire future, not when I was supposed to have so much ahead of me. Staying at home and raising a daughter? Where would I end up after that; a cardboard box?

She gave me that "mom look". "You should've thought about that when you went and got yourself knocked up." She turned on her heel and left me to clean up both the child and the water, not looking back.

That _wasn't _how it was done on The Secret Life.

**--Nikki—**

"**Do you think **he has bipolar disorder?" It was a random question really, but I needed to ask _someone_. And when it came down to it, Meena was the only person I thought I could really trust not to get annoyed and hang up on me when I brought _him _up again. (Yeah, she even knew who I meant whenever I said 'him' – that says something.) "Because it sounds like he's the guy in that Katy Perry song."

There was a rustling sound, and a few screams in the background, something about getting off the phone and being late for badminton. She answered after a good ten minutes. "That's what everyone else said. So, what, did he dump you or something? Because you guys were never technically going out."

"He's never technically gone out with anyone." She always said the most pointless things.

"Yeah. Claire."

Not knowing exactly who the heck Claire was (was it that girl who's always with Cookie Elson and Derrick Harrington?), I ignored that comment. "But I mean, one second he's all broody and PMS-ing. And then he's all sweet and sarcastic _at the same time_. And _then _he's always trying to ditch me. And then he-"

"_Please stop saying 'and then'." _I could just see Meena rubbing her temples like she did whenever she got ready to ignore what I was saying.

"Fine. _Afterwards, _he always apologizes and like talks to me for two minutes. _Next_ he stays quiet. And _finally_ he just leaves and starts it all over." What was that I said about Meena listening to my complaints? Ew, I was sounding like an obsessive girlfriend. "Do you think it's worth it?"

This was the part when Meena was supposed to say that if I wasn't happy, I should go for what I wanted. That if he couldn't step up in time, I should completely move on. The typical speech.

"No. Not at all."

That wasn't the speech.

"What about Chris Plovert?" Aside from the whole bipolar disorder question, that was really what I'd wanted to get to. Sure I wondered about Cam and that magnetism I felt, but I can only be flipped around and scrambled up so many times. I'm not an egg. (Wait, that sounded really odd…scratch that.)

Meena yawned. "_Taaaa-keeeen_. Everyone says he's like in love with Kristen. You really shouldn't go for it."

_Nikki may have talked to Olivia one too many times, because what she heard in that sentence was: "Taken, but who cares? You should still go for it – screw Kristen!"_

_She never did have good hearing._

**--**

_Despite suddenly taking an active role in the life of the pregnant woman he'd left behind years ago, Antonio Rivera liked to keep it under wraps. It didn't actually make a difference. Nadia was still gone for days at a time with Len (having run off to Las Vegas last time he checked). It was only when some reporter asked his new wife about how they were going to raise their "Darling Gift From Above" that something hit him._

_Oh yeah. He had a fifteen-year-old to raise too._

_--_

**--Alicia—**

**The girls sitting **in the front pews all turned around to glance suspiciously at me, like I was some foreign infiltrator. I could feel a bunch of eyes burning my back, even as the rest of the people there began to slowly file out, the choir going to change back into their everyday clothes. Everybody there – especially the old women sitting as close to the minister as possible – was silently assessing me, and I knew I'd come unprepared. Maybe wearing a pair of my cousins' hand-me-down boots wasn't such a great idea.

"Welcome back Brother Rivera," the pastor smiled warmly at Antonio, shaking his hands heartily. His wife only stood there and smiled like Demi Lavato, twirling some of her hair. I already didn't like something about her. "How may I help you on this fine day?"

"Hello pastor," Antonio put his hand around me, putting me under a spotlight. "I'd like to know about the Women to Girls meetings being held here on Tuesdays, for my daughter Alicia."

The wife shared a look with Antonio that clearly said '_oh! That's the problem child!' _"Hello _dear_. Were you interesting in connecting with a mentor?"

"…Sure…" I didn't exactly know what I was supposed to say. I heard someone in the background mutter something about kitten heels being dreadfully inappropriate. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Will Nadia be joining?" The wife asked, continuing to smile. It was probably supposed to look sweet, but I knew she was faking it. "It's especially wonderful for a mother and daughter to form a bond – very important." I guessed she had one of those perfect daughters, like Kristen once was.

"…No…"

She nodded like she knew it was too good to be true. People are always trying to fix my mom. "Well, it's nice meeting you, Alicia. We'll get you settled on Tuesday…do you usually go to church?"

Thanks a lot _dad._ I guessed New-Wife-Ambrosia had a stronger effect than I'd guessed. I couldn't ever remember my mom saying anything about being religious whenever she ranted about him.

"No."

Her smile faltered a little, but then straightened back up. "Well, here, there's a first time for everything. So, my husband will just get you all signed up, and I'll assign you a mentor."

I nodded.

"Okay, so, if you have any questions," she handed me a business card, like I'd come to a real estate agent instead of a group therapist. "Call this number and ask for me. Bye!" She fluttered her fingers in that perfect little Stepford wave. The pastor shook hands with both of us, and turned to follow her out.

"See, changing directions doesn't sound so hard, does it?" He was trying to be friendly with me. I didn't even look at him. I was too busy looking at the tiny card in my hands.

**ST. ANDREW'S WOMEN TO GIRLS MEETINGS**

**718-569-0144**

**LAURA M. FISHER**

Somehow, the idea seemed twenty times worse.

**--Claire—**

"**Will you just **drop it already?" Derrick snapped, stabbing a cheese fry with extra force. "It's nothing, okay?"

"Don't say that, it _is _something," I insisted, knowing that this wouldn't get me anywhere. He was pretty stubborn, like a giant boulder. And nagging him about it would only make the boulder harder to move. I probably should've waited until we were finished eating, and he was in a calmer mood. "Why can't I come over for dinner sometime?"

"I haven't been over to your house," he pointed out dryly, never once looking me in the eye. "They went on a business trip."

"And left you alone?" I was doubtful.

"They're on a business trip!" He was getting more annoyed by the second. How he could go from so charming to so cold was lost on me. The familiar feeling of dread hit me in the stomach. I couldn't let the same thing happen again.

I tried to make peace. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just used to it. And my dad wants to meet you."

"Yeah, I bet he does," Derrick mumbled under his breath. "I told you I'm no good with adults." He sighed when I gave him the puppy dog pout. "But here, if you want, you can come over sometime this week, okay? Now can we please let it go?"

"Thank you!" I squealed, hugging him tightly. He smiled again. "So, who's going to be home, your mom?"

He just shrugged, and went back to his fries. "I'm not making any promises."

_Chances are, nobody will be there at all._

_--_

_Mrs. Gregory was known to go all out when necessary. So when the two-day week mark passed, she called in for a Crime Scene Investigation team, sure that Kristen was kidnapped in some way. Her daughter knew better than to run off anyway, right?_

_--_

**--Kristen—**

"**Are you sure **you're old enough to be riding alone?" After a bunch of busrides, restaurant stops, and sleeping on Greyhound buses, this had to have been the only person to bother asking my age. If I hated looking younger than everyone else last year, I despised it now.

"Look, I really need to get to this address, okay?" I begged, praying inside my head that she'd let me get a ticket. I was only a town away from Aunt Vivica's house, which was practically in the middle of Ohio. If the woman would let me on for just _one mile_, I'd be happily out of everyone's hair.

My aunt could enroll me in public school there, where I could start everything over. I'd pick better friends, ones more like me. I would be able to live without any jealousy or heartache. And maybe, just maybe I'd return someday. _Maybe._ Everything sounded good to me – or at least it did when I thought about it in Burger King back on my way through Pennsylvania. All I wanted was that happy ending, even for a short while.

"Honey, what did you say your name was?" She was going through papers, looking at me suspiciously through her spectacles.

"Um…Cassidy. Cassidy Greene."

"Yeah, why don't you wait here Miss Greene," she put the papers back into a drawer, and picked up the phone. "I have to do something."

"Who are you calling…?" I asked, my throat drier than the Sahara. "There's no need to call anyone."

"Of course not, hon."

I did the only thing I could do at that point. I reached underneath the little hole in the glass, ripping the ticket out of the printer before she could even make a move. Ignoring her shouts, I continued to run through the station, hoping that I'd make the bus before anyone showed up.

--

_NEWS UPDATE!_

_Missing: Kristen Gregory was spotted in an Ohio bus station, underneath the alias Cassidy Greene. A witness said that she grabbed the ticket and ran as soon as she made a move to call the authorities. More on page 7._

--

**EN: It's been a while, hasn't it? R&R Lovelies.**

**Question Of the Day: _Is the Calicia love; or just trying to make up for a mistake? Or is it just plain confused emotions?_**


	7. Whispering Campaign

**

* * *

**

AN:

_**yes **_**there **_**is **_**a kind of cliffy at the end. The next chapter's all…well, you'll see. Plus: Anvils are the things that fall on cartoon character's heads.**

_But to them your name is cheap//But to them you look like shi-  
_~**There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered, Honey You Just Haven't Thought of it Yet; **Panic! At the Disco~

**Whispering Campaign**

* * *

**--Nikki—**

**It felt like **every single thing went dead silent when I walked into the waiting room; not like it made any difference. But I still couldn't fight the feeling that they'd shut up because of me. I knew that they were all wondering what "New Girl" was doing there –since I had _nothing _to do with Kristen Gregory.

Well, unless you count dancing with her boyfriend for hours straight on Halloween night.

Trying to ignore all the eyes on me – _ugh _I was worse than Bella Swan with this spotlight thing – I randomly flopped down in the last empty seat, right next to Alicia Rivera. (Something which, might I add, I didn't exactly want to do.) Everyone discontinued their staring at the ceiling just so they could ogle me. Note the creepiness of the word "ogle".

"Um. Hi."

"Why are you even here?" Dylan Marvil asked. There wasn't any rudeness in her tone, but I still didn't like the question.

"Because I'm a classmate who wouldn't lie to protect anyone," I answered flatly. "They interview everyone." Looking around, I guessed that they were talking to Chris now. I felt a nervous wave wash over me. Hopefully nobody would suspect him – he was too nice of a guy to do anything worse than forget to sort his recyclables.

"She's got a point," Layne Abeley pointed out.

Massie snorted. Even though she looked casual, she was stiff, and her eyes were distant. I knew she was thinking the same thing everyone else in the room was thinking: _suicide. _There wasn't a reason for anyone to kill Kristen – where could she have gone off to anyway? And for some reason that I couldn't figure out, imagining her killing herself was twenty times worse than someone else killing her.

"So, I'll be in the bathroom," Olivia got up suddenly, throwing her purse over her shoulder self-consciously. I think I was the only person to notice that she wasn't as calm and collected as she usually was. It was probably the shock. "Tell me if anyone needs me." Even as she left the room, all eyes remained on me.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "So, um, should I do a flip? You guys are making me feel uncomfortable." Next to me, Alicia giggled awkwardly at my comment. It didn't make my blood boil half as much as I thought it would – even though Cam was right across from me.

"_Can we get Kemp Hurley please?" _The private eye Mrs. Gregory had hired; Detective (get this) Pastrami asked, as Chris Plovert entered again. Chris took Kemp's seat, and Kemp gave us all a dramatic wave as he left. Only small, uncomfortable laughter followed that. Dylan didn't look too pleased.

"How'd it go?" I whispered.

"They seem to think that I would kill her off. Either that or that Pastrami guy has issues." I felt my face heat up when he whispered back.

"…New Girl – _ugh_ – I mean, Miki?" Alicia seemed to have decided that she could only stare at her boots for so long.

"It's Nikki," I managed to answer her without tearing her hair out or throwing any insults her way, even though her "choice of attire" was just asking for it.

"Alicia," she didn't offer her hand.

I probably wouldn't have shaken it anyway.

_--_

_Detective Marc Pastrami had a way of going about things. He was straight to the point with his interviews, accusing the person right away. A guilty man would demand a lawyer – they always did. An innocent one would find some alibi._

_Chris Plovert neither asked for a lawyer, _nor _had an alibi._

--

**--Alicia—**

**After twenty minutes**, the detective had only gotten through three people: Chris, Kemp, and Dylan. Olivia was still in the bathroom. Massie was still staring off into space, playing with her hair. It was still awkward. He might as well have filled the room with strangers.

"So, what do you think really happened?" Layne finally asked the question that was on everybody's mind. She was the only one brave enough to do it.

"Can we not talk like that?" Claire was huddled with Derrick, looking like a scared rabbit. Knowing her, she probably assumed the worst – like some psycho killer with a chainsaw had gotten loose in our town. "We should be thinking positive."

"Fine," I spoke up sarcastically. Her innocence was annoying. "What do you think _didn't _happen to Kristen?" I was the first person to use her name all day. Everyone had just been calling Kristen "her".

"Well, I don't think she was buried," Kemp supplied, trying to get everyone to think a little more positively. "I think that she'll probably come back eventually."

"Thank you," I said in defeat when everyone looked at him like he'd confessed to public urination. "At least _someone _in here doesn't think that this is a CSI episode."

"You watch CSI?" Cam sounded amused. I knew that tone; what he really meant was _"you can understand what they're saying on CSI?"_ I don't know why he assumes that I'm an idiot.

"At least Kemp here has _some _faith in me," I put an arm around him like we were best friends, and he flashed a peace sign. Dylan's gaze was to evil to be described as 'daggers'. The better term would be 'Dylan's eyes shot flaming bullets with sharp objects tied to them at me'. I let go of Kemp, knowing what she must've thought. Maybe Antonio _was _right.

Dylan kept glaring at me the same way a housewife would look at the hooker and the rich old man who'd moved in next door. I sat back in my seat and continued to look at my shoes, feeling worse than ever.

**--Kristen—**

"**Stop here," I **told the cabbie, my heart racing ten-fold. It was beating so quickly, I was sure that even he could hear it pounding against my ribs. I felt elated, like I could fly. Finally, after all that traveling, I was there. For some reason, Aunt Vivica's felt like home.

"Hey, I swears I've seen ye' befo' somewhere," the cabbie adjusted his rearview mirror, narrowed green eyes glaring at me suspiciously. "You's sure I don't know ye'?"

I nodded quickly. "Uh, yeah, it's Cassidy. I don't know you."

He frowned deeper. "Ye' said ye' name was Celia."

I reached for my wallet and handed him the last dollar bills in there, just to cover the expenses. "Uh, yeah, I'm Celia-Cassidy McGregor!" Even as he counted the money – I'd overpaid him by five dollars – he still continued to look suspicious. I could only pray that he wouldn't try to report me.

"Strange name."

"Sorry sir," I got out of the car as quickly as possible. "You'd have to take that up with my mom."

**--Claire—**

**I got up **even though I really didn't want to, trying not to look anyone in the eyes as I headed to the bathroom. It was a relief to get away from all that tension, but I felt even worse when I was alone. Like someone had stolen one of Wile E. Coyote's Acme anvils and dropped one on both of my shoulders.

_Kristen could've been dead._

_Kristen could've been kidnapped._

_Kristen could've committed suicide._

The thoughts were just so ugly – I needed to stop and calm down. Rubbing my temples, I opened the bathroom door.

Olivia stood by the sink with a prescription bottle, and two small pills in her hand. She was about to take a sip of water when she realized that I'd walked in. Slowly, she turned to look at me.

"_Ooh_." She sounded like her favorite football team had just fumbled – not like she'd been caught with prescriptions. "Well, let me just explain – it's not what you think."

"Are you on _drugs_?" I squeaked, my voice unnaturally high. She didn't smoke, didn't drink, or anything like the people she hung around sometimes did. A lot of people said that there had to be _some _problem other than her lack of self-respect. I just hadn't thought popping prescription pills would be it.

"No! Didn't I just say it's not what you think?" Her voice was hard, angry. I stepped back a little, and tried to control my voice. Was Olivia even stable?

"Then what is it?" I folded my arms.

"Dilantin." She answered slowly and calmly. Her cold gaze met mine. "For my Antisocial Personality Disorder."

* * *

**EN: I had to do research – blech! But either way, if any of you are too lazy to look up with "APD" is, I'll give you a description in the next chapter.**


	8. ScrewUp Central

**AN: "Why is Olivia such a/an (insert your word of choice)?" Well, let's find out. :) (The same **_**will**_** be done for Derrick.) NOTE: **NO ALICIA THIS TIME  
**Dedicated to: **people aren't perfect & coffee-addict-always

_While we're still so young//Desperate for Attention  
_~**The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage; **P!ATD~

* * *

**Screw-Up Central**

_**Antisocial Personality Disorder: **__(APD): a personality disorder that is characterized by antisocial behavior exhibiting pervasive disregard for and violation of the rights, feelings, and safety of others starting in childhood or the early teenage years and continuing into adulthood, that is often marked by a lack of remorse for having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from others, and that in practice is often difficult to diagnose because it is confounded with disorders in which drug addiction or substance abuse is a factor called also__ psychopathic personality disorder_

_**In Plain English: **__A psychopath._

**--Kristen—**

**You know, for **someone who liked to think of herself as smart, I sure did some stupid things. I know it was probably a little late to realize something like that, but as my aunt stood there and gaped at me like I was the Ghost of Christmas Past, some of the stupider things I've done slammed into my brain like hail.

When I got there, I'd expected to be greeted happily. _Forget the fact that I'd worried everyone sick, and that I'd run off like a little delinquent! I would be so welcome to stay with Aunt Vivica! _I'd stay there for like a week, and somehow all of my problems would evaporate. I'd go back to Hotchkiss and everyone would welcome me kindly. Claire and Dylan wouldn't have that tension between them anymore. Massie would've fallen down the Grand Canyon or left forever. Alicia wouldn't be known as Ali-_slut_. Everything would magically be okay, and back to normal – like eighth grade.

Back then, it was about who'd kissed who, not who'd cheated on who. A little less _"Gossip Girl"_, and a little more child-friendly, like _"Brace Face"_.

"K…Kristen?" Aunt V asked, like she was trying to make sure that it was really me. Her jaw dropped, and she looked a little pale. Scared that she might've had a seizure, I nodded quickly. Vivica just blinked, holding her heart like a little old lady. "What…are you alright?"

I nodded slowly. In my imagination, this was the part where I broke down and told her everything, and she offered to call my mom, and convince her to let me stay over there for a while. Then the rest of it would slowly come true.

"What is this?" Vivica stammered, still in shock. "Kristen, everyone thinks you were kidnapped! What are you doing here?"

I just shrugged and looked at the ground, my vision already blurring. _No, I'd made it this far…_I couldn't start crying now. The minute I did, she'd just go phone my mom and send me home. I had to be stronger than that somehow. "I can't stand it back at home! Everyone hates me!"

With those words, and the pitying look on my aunt's face, I almost broke down. I could see a million faces flashing before me. Dylan angrily accusing me of being self-centered. Massie and Olivia throwing me dirty looks. Josh acting like he'd never felt anything there. Claire not even looking at me. Cam giving me annoyed looks, like my presence was an insult. Alicia pretending I wasn't there anymore. It was all too much.

Chris, with his big blue eyes looking at me like I was special, when on the inside I really couldn't stand him anymore.

Vivica patted my back, looking slightly abashed. "There, there dear. Look, just go inside and get cleaned up, and then we'll have to talk about this. If they see you on my doorstep, the police will probably say _I _stole you away." She offered me a joking smile, but all I could do was sniff.

Whenever I thought things would go smoothly for me, they never did. Maybe that was just part of being a Gregory.

_--_

"_Rivera, what are you doing?" Olivia Ryan's disturbingly calm voice rang against the bathroom tiles, commanding attention. She folded her arms tightly and looked down at the girl before her, ice blue eyes practically staring right through her soul. Or at least, it felt that way. Whoever said the girl would be nothing without Massie Block and Cookie Elson by her side was dead wrong._

"_Were you _crying_?" The disgust in Olivia's tone was obvious._

"_It's just that everyone thinks-" Alicia stopped talking when the blond grabbed her wrist and shook it._

"_Look at me," she snapped. "Since when did you care what everyone thought of you? Wipe your eyes right now and stop that stupid crying. You know how long people have been talking about you, me, and everyone else?" She cut Alicia off before the girl could finish. "So screw them. You either don't care, or you cry, slit your wrists, and kill yourself. Your choice."_

_Not exactly the nicest words of advice, but they sure worked._

--

**--Claire—**

"**It's for your **_what?" _Ibarely choked out, too shocked to say anything else. I wasn't even sure how to respond to that? Was that supposed to mean that Olivia was mentally unstable or something? Would she flip out like that bear Todd likes to watch on _Happy Tree Friends_? I was almost scared to move. After all, she was giving me one evil look.

Looking at me like I was really stupid, Olivia rolled her eyes. "Are you deaf? I said it's for my _personality disorder_," her eyes narrowed, and I know she was skewering me with them. She picked her bag up like this was a completely laid-back conversation between two acquaintances. "Can you _please _stop blocking the door _Claire Bear_?" She hissed the old nickname Cam had called me, something the girl knew must've stung.

"But…" I wasn't even really sure what to say. Should I have recommended help for her or something? Yeah, sure, I'd just _casually_ mention this great hotline I knew, and she'd strangle me to death and walk out of the bathroom like it was nothing. Why was it I never knew what to say? Like an idiot, I kept blocking the door with my mouth gaping open.

Olivia pushed past me violently, nearly knocking me into one of the stalls. She stopped herself with one hand on the handle, turning back to give me another one of her psycho-ice glares. "Claire…" she suddenly said sweetly, letting go as I picked myself up, dumbfounded.

Was she bipolar too?

"I hope you realize that this is nothing to go spreading around, right?" She smiled at me, but it was more like when a crocodile smiles at the cute little bird it's going to gobble up. "I mean, I can trust you to keep that big mouth of yours shut, can't I?"

I nodded, still staring at her.

"Screw that – I bet you said the same stuff to Kristen right before you went and started that rumor about her being gay," Olivia dropped the nice act as fast as she'd picked it up. She stood over me (thanks to her ridiculous heels) and looked down, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You _won't _mention this, because it's all under control, okay? You don't need to tell your mom, your friends, the guidance counselor, or _anyone_. We clear?"

Feeling like a pathetic kid, I nodded again. Her nails were digging into my shoulder, _hard_. I was pretty sure she'd leave marks. The same way a wave from her would mean you'd been accepted into her 'circle' of friends, her iron grip on your shoulder was the same as a threat.

I was going to be carefully monitored, I had a strange feeling.

**--Nikki—**

**When they finally **called my name, I was already half-asleep. I was expecting something a little more like _CSI _or _Law and Order_, where all they had to do was interview a person for five minutes before they could tell a whole bunch of ridiculous information. But apparently, the guy doing all the interrogations _was not Grissom_; Marc Pastrami was much, much slower.

"Take a seat, why don't you Nacelle," he said gesturing widely to the only chair in the room, like I wouldn't have been able to find it. Once I sat down, he sat down on the table and smiled like he was greeting a friend. "How long have you been here? The others say you knew Kristen for a short time."

"Um, yeah," I stammered. "I came at the end of last year. Kristen was on the soccer team with me – I'm on defense."

Detective Pastrami (…) nodded, muttering 'good' over and over to himself, the way weird people do. Sitting there, rubbing his hands and saying 'good' like a maniac, he looked like an evil cartoon villain. With a very funny sandwich-like name.

"Have you ever really talked?"

I shook my head, and then nodded. "I guess once or twice. It was mostly about language class and homework. Like there was this one time where she brought her diary in for this poetry project, and she wrote this really sad poem. Then Kemp Hurley started singing Cheer Up Emo Kid, and Chris Plovert sang along."

The detective suddenly sat up, like he'd been shocked by lightning. "Wasn't that her boyfriend?"

"Well, they're kind of distant. He used to always try to be sweet and everything, but, she never cared or appreciated it." Saying it made anger bubble up in me. Chris _didn't _deserve that kind of stuff from her – she treated him like he didn't even exist sometimes. And he tried so hard too. "She was always looking at this other boy; I don't know his name though."

Pastrami scribbled some things down into a small pocket notebook. "So would you say he was upset and jealous?"

Remembering the look in his eyes back on the Halloween dance, I nodded. Pastrami nodded, doing the same muttering-reiterate thing again, only this time saying 'interesting' instead of good.

"Okay Nikki, we can cut this short now," he said, closing his handy-dandy notebook. "I'm going to ask if we can speak again at another time. Now it's too late, and I've got work to do. You've been a great help."

Not exactly sure what I'd done to be so 'great', I nodded and walked out.

_The number one way to ruin a relationship before it can even start: get him underneath the police's suspicions._

--

"_In trouble again, Miss Ryan?" Miss Koran, the secretary in the main office asked, with an eye roll. It was only the second week of school, and she practically knew everything about Olivia Ryan, the troublesome little first-grader who had been sent down almost daily. "Mr. Elsie won't be too happy."_

"_I don't care about him and his big bald head," Olivia pouted, sitting down in her favorite chair. The red chair on the far right was practically reserved for her usual afternoon visits. "And it wasn't my fault. That other kid deserved what she got; she threw a crayon at me!"_

_Miss Koran looked away from her computer. "What did you do?"_

_Olivia continued to pout and kick her feet. "I kicked Cookie off of the jungle gym. I waited 'til she was at the top so she'd get hurt." With a devious little smile, she added in "She twisted her ankle."_

_Not knowing how to respond to that, Miss Koran just went back to her typing._

--

**--Dylan—**

"**Pick up, pick **up, pick up," I grumbled into the phone. Anything was worse than hearing the dial tone play over and over. I kept tapping my fingers on my dresser and trying to verbally use some kind of force to get Kemp to pick up his cell phone, wherever he was. Once the sixth dial tone came on, and the answering machine picked up for the thousandth time, I knew it was time to start nagging. Getting up and leaving Mira sleeping in her bed, I walked to a quieter and more secluded part of the house.

"_Hey, you've reached Kemp Hurley, and I'm not there right now. If this is my cousin, I have the money I owe you. If this is one of the guys, I don't owe you any money. If this is my parents, you need to lend me some money. And if this is a girl, don't worry babe, I've got _plenty _of money. Get at me after the beep."_

_BEEP!_

"Get at me? What is this, MySpace?" I shook my head, trying to remind myself that I was his sweet, nice, _high school sweetheart_, not his obnoxious nagging wife. "I've been trying to call you like all week, it's really bad. We have to talk."

"_Get at me after the beep."_

_BEEP!_

"Wow, two messages in twenty minutes, I really am sorry I have to bother you. But since you're so _busy _with your _friends_, I guess I'll just tell you now. I can't come back to school, so we really need to talk about this."

_BEEP!_

"Hey, it's Dill again. I have some free time this weekend, and we can go out for ice cream or something. Mira's first cone- don't you think it'll be cute." I trailed off and hung up quickly when I saw that Dania was walking into my room, shaking her head at me like I was something pathetic.

"Hon, your boyfriend _does not _want to see _your _baby's first ice cream cone." She put her dog down on the ground, and didn't even watch as the small animal ran to go and chew some of my old homework assignments up. (If I wasn't going back on Monday, what was the point?) "For someone so…" she looked at Mira. "_Busy_, you sure don't know anything about guys."

Wincing at her choice of words, I glared at my sister. The same girl who'd been chasing Harris Fisher like a sick, lost puppy thought that she knew more about guys than _me_? That didn't even deserve a response. But, Dania, being Dania, took my silence as my curiosity to know more about what she was saying.

"You're always dragging Kemp along – he's not even that baby's daddy? What kind of man wants to watch after someone else's child like it's their own at fifteen? That's why when a male lion comes to a new pride; he kills all the kids first." Another thing about Dania, she believed watching Animal Planet made her the psychological guy expert. "If I was him, I would've dumped you _so _long ago."

"Yeah, well it's not like that." I turned away from my sister and dialed his number one more time.

He didn't pick up.

* * *

**EN: Long update! :D & Remember:**

_**I get paid in reviews – don't let me starve!**_


	9. Funny Little Thing Called Love

**AN: Random Sweetness!**

**Dedicated to: Sydney & Haritha (emeraldeyes101 & Cella Fille)**

**Special: Only Alicia; Dylan; Nikki; and Claire – Kristen will come next Chapt**

* * *

_Sometimes I lova ya//Sometimes you make me blue//Sometimes I feel good//At times I feel used//Loving you darling//Makes me so confused  
_~**Fallin'**; Alicia Keys~

**Funny Little Thing Called Love**

Alpha Elite – (**New Post) **November 4th;

_From the devilish mind of Massie Block:_

Hey kiddies, _stay in school._

And if you can't, at least drop out with some dignity. And _no_, leaving your boyfriend ten trillion frantic voice messages about how he should drop out too is _not _leaving with dignity. It's pathetic, clingy, and intrusive. Typical Marvil. I mean, when is this girl going to realize the way the world works? If Derrick obviously doesn't want to take care of her kid (he _is _the father – I just love reminding people that) please tell me why she assumes Kemp would want to?

All I can say to Kemp now is: _run. Run away from that gold digging wench and never return_. Because she's a trifling friend indeed.

Oh, and before I can forget this little reminder: _don't go AWOL on everyone either._

Not only will you scare the heck out of a frantic, loud, accusing mother, but you'll force everyone you know to spend hours in a police interrogation room. Really, how Mrs. Gregory got my number is a mystery. Stupid yearbook committee. Kristen, wherever you are, get back here so everyone can shut up about you. (No, that doesn't include Josh – but Chris seems upset.)

Au revoir,

Massie Block

**--Dylan—**

**I was sure **that if Kemp had a little less melanin, he would've been turning bright red. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hallway of his house the minute he opened the door. Somewhere, I had a feeling that it wasn't because he was happy to see me. Not only was it right before school, but after glimpsing over that stupid blog Massie writes, I had the feeling that I'd embarrassed him.

"Dylan, what was _with _those voice messages?" He demanded. "Everyone heard them!" I'd apparently forgotten what a busy life he led – and how that involved constantly traveling in a van packed with all his friends. "You expect me to _drop out of school_?"

I blinked innocently, hoping I could make him guilty. Back when we'd first started dating, that was all it took. Honestly, I was starting to feel like I was in a marriage that was going sour – but the kids weren't the only thing keeping us together. Kemp wouldn't tell me where he was going anymore or with whom. I was always calling him while he was out having fun, reminding him to think of how I was home alone.

Ugh. Just like my mom.

"I couldn't get a hold of you, and I wanted to keep trying," I realized how stupid it sounded once I repeated it out loud. But I hadn't been thinking – I had a migraine from Mira (every time I put her down, she woke back up). "But I'm serious," I mumbled, turning red. "My mom's making me drop out of school."

He held onto my shoulders, looking surprised. "_Seriously_? You weren't just saying that? Dylan…" For once in his life, Kemp was speechless. I took that opportunity.

"That's why I was trying to get to you. Drop out with me."

He let go of me and looked at me like I was crazy. "_What?"_

"Drop out with me," I repeated a little slower. "Help me. Help us. I think that if you stopped going to school to help out, then we can make it through. Whatever it takes, right?" The concerned look on my boyfriend's face changed drastically. Backing away from me like I had swine flu, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"I can't believe this," he grumbled to himself, turning away from me for a second. He looked back at me with nothing but coldness in his usually warm dark eyes. "Dylan, why should _I _drop out of school?"

The hopeful smile I'd plastered onto my face fell flat.

"Dylan, _I've _still got a life ahead of me that I need to think about." I'd completely forgotten – he'd told me about his future plans, studying medicines so he could become a surgeon general, and how important the things he did now would be. Kemp sighed, even more annoyed. "And besides, that's not even my kid."

And just like that, I knew the argument was over. It wasn't his kid. I shouldn't have been taking this up with Kemp. I wanted to say something, to apologize maybe, or to try and convince him, but the lump in my throat wouldn't let any words come out. My eyes stung with salty tears, and I knew my face would start turning blotchy soon enough.

"Kemp, who is that?" Mrs. Hurley came around the corner to see me, a smile on her round face. "Well hello there Dill, I was just going to drop Kemp off at school, would you like a ride?" She glanced at her son, and then back at me. The warm look on her face didn't change, but there was confusion in her eyes.

"Um, no," I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and smiled at her. "I just had to stop by; my mom's dropping me off."

Without looking at Kemp, I hurried out of there.

_--_

_Cameron Fisher was a good boy. And yes, despite being fifteen years old and (in the words of Derrick Harrington) 'experienced'; he was still a boy at heart._

_Or at least, because he told himself that he was._

_--_

**--Alicia—**

**CAM F CELL: **we need 2 talk

There are some words you don't want to hear early in the morning. We've probably been through this before – but the last thing I expect to be texted about before first period (the one where Miss Swann specifically remembers me for coming in late all the time). Well, Cam and I hadn't actually _talked _in a while (as in, there wasn't much talking), so even seeing that he sent me a message was a surprise.

"Ooh, what's that?" Olivia looked over my shoulder at my message like the nosy girl she was. "Cam F?" Her pale eyebrows shot up.

"It's not like that," I insisted, even though I could feel my face flushing with embarrassment. Olivia _knew _I didn't like talking about it, but for whatever reason, she found some way to make me feel all guilty and embarrassed. It was like she enjoyed it. "Well, I'll see you later, 'kay?"

Ignoring whatever it was Olivia said after me, I continued down the hallway, pushing through a bunch of people who either ignored me, or cast me odd glances, until I got to the door by the west exit. He was already waiting there, just looking around the audience like he was expecting something. And he didn't look too happy either.

Wait a second – was I going to be dumped from a _sort-of_ relationship? Well that would kind of suck.

"You wanted to talk?" I asked.

"Well _obviously_," he waved his cell phone around where the text was displayed like I was too dumb to remember what it had said. Typical Cam. "But _yeah_, I _did_. About this…_thing _we have going on."

That was a lot of emphasized words. But instead of commenting, I just nodded. He looked down at the toes of his shoes, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"Well, yeah, I don't know what to call it anymore." Yeah, Cam Fisher was _so _sweet. Was this was Claire kept going on about? "And I mean, I _like _you and all, but I can't really tell if it's just…." He shrugged again; not exactly wanting to say what I knew was on the tip of his tongue. And based on the smug looks on some of the guys and girls still lumbering around by us, they knew it too. "Physical."

"I get what you're saying – you don't have to announce it so publicly," I grumbled.

"Just to make sure you understand." A smug grin. "But seriously, though. I don't want it to be just that." He took his hand out of his pocket and held mine, like the caring boyfriend he was supposed to be. It wasn't exactly usual for him to do that, and I kind of felt weird and self-conscious. What, did he think he owed this to me? "So can we take it a little slower?"

I just breathed out, a little caught off guard. Cam looked dead serious; there was nothing but honesty in his weird, mismatched eyes. "Um, sure."

Well, if his mother was going to be teaching me how to "redeem myself" I might as well try and get on her good side.

Still, somewhere, somehow, something felt settled. Like there was a weight off my shoulders, and like I was doing the right thing. Encouraged by this, I leaned forwards to kiss him – until he backed up a little.

"Oh. Slow. _Right_."

**--Nikki—**

**Meena ran up **to me with an urgent look on her face. From the way she was mad-dashing through the cafeteria, I could've sworn that there was a real emergency. Maybe the science lab was on fire, or maybe someone had dropped dead. Anything but what Meena had come hurrying to me for. Maybe it was opposite day, or the apocalypse or something. But Meena had gotten all worked up over one thing:

Cam.

"Nikki, Nikki!" Meena was in my face, panting from her long run. "Did you hear the news?"

Once again, I must stress what a drama-queen Meena can be when she wants to. "What happened? What did you hear?"

Meena sat down and started breathing normally again. She grabbed half of my hash brown and took a huge bite of it, wiping her forehead. "It's about Cam and Ali-"

I rolled my eyes and turned my iPod up so that all I could hear was the lead singer of Paramore whispering about a "crushcrushcrush". Meena frowned at me, snatching my earphones away and looking at me. "Hello, don't you want to hear it?"

I looked across the cafeteria, to where Chris was walking out of the lunch line. He caught my eye and waved, smiling when I returned the wave. I don't know if it was just my imagination or not, but he blushed a little bit when I smiled at him, turning away. Looking back at Meena, I realized that while I'd been waving at Chris, she'd _still _been talking about Cam.

Ha, I shook my head at Meena as she went on and on, proving herself to be more gossip-obsessed than Massie Block. And they called _me _a fan girl.

Even though what she was saying would've freaked me out only a week ago. I would've gone into the same drama-queen rage she was in, ranting about everything. But for some reason that even I wasn't sure about, I didn't care. At all. Sure I _probably _still liked him somewhere deep down. But after the rollercoaster that was Cam Fisher, I really didn't care anymore.

With that in mind, I glimpsed back at Chris as he sat at his table. He caught my eyes and smiled.

Cam _Who?_

_--_

"_I'm going to call your father!" The exhausted teacher sighed, pulling one of her most troublesome students out of the class. When she'd agreed to teach third grade, she hadn't expected all of these problems. One week it was Griffin Hastings, the next it was Olivia Ryan, then Derrick Harrington and back again. Weren't eight-year-olds supposed to be – _nice_?_

"_My dad left us and married his secretary," the defiant little girl said flatly. The teacher threw her arms up in the air in defeat._

"_Your dad left?" Derrick Harrington asked, incredulous. Olivia nodded. "You're lucky. I wish mine would leave."_

_--_

**--Claire—**

"**Welcome to casa** de Harrington," Derrick said a little more confidently than he had been before, swinging the door open with flourish. He threw his book bag on the floor carelessly. I walked into his relatively small house in awe. What was so bad that he couldn't have taken me there before? Sure, it was one third the size of mine, but that stuff didn't matter to me. There was no need for him to be embarrassed. "Whatever you do _don't _make yourself at home unless you'd like to help me clean up afterwards."

I giggled and took of my coat, hanging it on the small hook. The place was mostly modern on the inside, colored in blues, blacks, whites, and reds. "This looks _so _much cooler than my boring old house," I reached out for his hand and he took it.

"You haven't even seen the half of it." Derrick smiled at me, leading me further into the house. I breathed out a sigh of relief. Even though something in my stomach flip-flopped, he led me in the direction of the kitchen, _not _the stairs. I could just see people like Massie Block eating their words. I just smiled and nodded as he showed me every little detail, _'my kitchen', 'my pantry', 'my bathroom'_. In fact, I think I was a little too wrapped up in my silent mental triumph to notice the sweet smells from upstairs. Like those little Glade plug-ins my mom loves to buy, only in the refreshing smells of vanilla and lavender.

Upon entering what Derrick hadn't bothered introducing, but I knew was his room, I saw they were candles.

"Um, it smells nice in here," the bad feeling was back, harder than ever. I really think that I could've lived without stopping by there once I was actually there. I mean, I would've been much better off sitting in my room bored, or maybe trying to get my big brother Todd to play Uno with me. At least I wouldn't have the same nauseous feeling. "But I'm really thirsty; I think I should get back home." I turned towards the door, feeling really embarrassed.

Why was it that everyone else could have something like this happen, and go on so casually with their lives? I kind of felt like a little kid – but it wasn't a bad feeling. I just knew I had to talk my way out of this, and _fast_.

"Claire," Derrick said with all seriousness. He didn't have the usual mischief in his eyes – there was something different about those pools of melted chocolate. And he didn't sound like his usual joker self. It was like someone had taken his voice and replaced it with that of a famous soap actor. "I'm not just saying this but, you're not like any other girl I've ever met. You're sweet, you're genuine, you're just so…" he couldn't even find the right words.

I just looked at him, unblinking and speechless.

"And I'm not just saying this like with the other girls. I want us to work, and I want it to be special." Derrick was just about to say more when there was the sound of a door slamming downstairs hard enough to rattle his windows.

"_But honey, I told you I was working late," _a woman's voice tried to reason, I could only guess that it was Mrs. Harrington, begging for forgiveness.

"_I expect to see food on the table with my name on it!"_

Derrick, looking paler than a ghost let go of me and slammed the door shut quickly. "Claire, you've got to leave."

Something that felt a lot like panic and dread mixed together rose up into my throat. My eyes got wide as more yelling and crashing came from downstairs. I was on the second floor. Unless I planned on climbing out the window, I was stuck there.

* * *

**EN: Cliffy! As usual, first review gets a dedication – if no more than two reviews are given, then you'll both get a mention.**

**Question Of The Day: **_Chris should (a) stop, because he's technically cheating on Kristen; (b) say 'screw Kristen' and dump her the moment they get back in contact, (c) DIE! WHAT AN AWESOME TWIST!_


	10. Cat's Out of The Bag

**AN: ****NO. Even though this **_**is **_**based on **_**T.S.L.O.T.A.T **_**(oh wow that's a mouthful) Claire's dad will **_**not **_**die; and Derrick's dad is **_**not **_**a jailbird type person. He's never been caught. Ever.**

**Dedicated to: Haritha! (You're fast!) And AkiraCatalina! (For reviewing every chapter with something insightful to say. I've been considering all of your suggestions)**

**POVs: Just Claire and Kristen**

* * *

_And have a habit of decomposing, right before you very eyes//Along with the people inside  
_**~Build God, Then We'll Talk; **Panic! At the Disco~

**Cat's Out Of The Bag**

**--Claire—**

"**What's going on?" **I somehow managed to squeak out, even though the hairs on the back of my neck were raised. I was too startled to move, so that I could only stand there and watch as Derrick threw my purse to me and looked out the doorway, like he was checking to make sure that nobody was coming. "I have to get home…" I repeated it even though there really wasn't a point in saying so.

"Okay," Derrick said, handing me my jacket. "I'll get down there and talk to them; you sneak around through the living room, and out the door." He looked out in the hallway, like it was perfectly normal to sneak people out of his house quickly. The image of Olivia rushing out the back door filled my mind, and just added insult to injury.

Of course, she was the last thing I thought about when he looked downstairs, gave me a small push, and whispered 'go!'.

I stumbled out of the room quickly, hurrying down the hallway. I heard the sound of Mrs. Harrington clattering pots together as she rushed to make that dinner. The sick feeling in my guy only strengthened as I remembered all the yelling that her husband had done while Derrick rushed me inside to hide me. I didn't think it was possible to use so many insults in one sentence and not forget what you were saying.

I barely waited for Derrick to get to the kitchen before I rushed into the living room. I felt like a robber running from the police as I rested against the wall for a second, peeking my head around the corner. I could hear Derrick's voice drifting from the kitchen, I just didn't know what he was saying, and I didn't care. I'd had one too many shocks that day.

_And that wasn't enough apparently._

I'd just thought that I'd made it out of there without anything bad happening, when I heard the sound of a beer can dropping, and a small little gasp. I whirled around, gasping too only to see a slightly scruffy man standing there in a suit with his tie undone.

"Who the hell is this?" He didn't scream, but there was something powerful about his voice. I'd heard things like that described in books, like how someone's voice was strong enough to evoke all of these emotions in someone, but I never thought it was true. But when he spoke – that calm rage, like a quiet storm, I froze in fear.

Derrick rushed into the living room at his father's voice, stopping short when he saw that I hadn't made it out. Maybe I should've waited for his lead.

"I-I…" I stammered, feeling my face get pale. Mrs. Harrington scuttled into the kitchen, and for a second, her bright brown eyes met mine. I saw the same fear and worry in them. "I'm Cl-Claire." Even though my gut was screaming at me to shut up, I kept going, hoping maybe if I just came clean with everything quickly, I'd get to leave sooner. "Derrick's girlfriend."

Mrs. Harrington flashed a sweet smile at me, but when her husband's eyes narrowed like a viper's, she stopped right away.

"No." He said calmly, taking a sip of the beer he'd gotten up off of the ground.

My heart practically stopped. Derrick didn't say anything; he just kept to himself in the corner of the living room, like a chameleon trying to camouflage. Mrs. Harrington tried walking over to him cautiously, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Honey, what are you-" She stopped when her husband turned his cold gaze on her. He shook his head. "You haven't even given her a chance, I mean…" She turned to me, and tried to smile. "Tell us about yourself."

"_I said no_." Mr. Harrington said with more force, like I wasn't even there. He hadn't glanced at me once, but I still felt the bite of his words. "I know who this is," he turned his gaze on me with disgust and contempt. "She's that Jay Lyons' daughter. No."

Mrs. Harrington opened her mouth to beg again, but he got up suddenly, smacking her across the face and knocking her to the ground. Derrick looked away, a brooding expression on his usually smug face. I let out a loud squeal, only to have the perfectly sober Mr. Harrington toss the rest of his beer can at me.

"What the hell are you still doing here? Get this bitch out!"

Derrick was over by my side in a flash, grabbing me by my forearm, and leading me out as quickly as possible. I was speechless, something telling me that this wasn't him at his worst.

"Derrick, I…" I started, but he just shook his head, not listening or saying anything. It was only when he'd led me around the block that I almost regained my voice. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Was all he said. It was all he needed to say.

--

_Mrs. Serena Ryan had just about the same reputation as her daughter. Her conquests were broad, and many, and every time she found a new gardener, it was news on their small street. Of course, the one news that had never gotten out, was the eight-month affair with a certain man who'd come over to help her fix some legal problems. (Ahem, destroy a Prenup)_

_That lawyer was a handsome man by the name of Lawrence Harrington._

--

**--Kristen—**

"**I called your **mother," Vivica said, rubbing her temples, as she walked into the kitchen. She sat down across from me, practically staring into my soul with dark brown eyes. "She practically went off – even blaming _me_, but what can you expect from Martha?" She shook her head, and gently slid a plate of homemade fried chicken towards me. "Eat up; you're going to have _a lot _of questions to answer."

I just grabbed a chicken leg, even though my appetite had just flown off. Feeling hollowed out on the inside and kind of sick, I tried not to look her in the eye. I knew she'd be disappointed in me for just running off – and to _her house_ of all places in the world. Not to mention the fact that I could've called and stayed the weekend instead. I sat there in silence, counting down the seconds along with her antique clock. After about thirty of them, she decided to start with the interview.

"Kris, what were you thinking?" Her voice was calm, but that was what made it hard. If she'd yelled at me, I could've just gotten mad, and put up a wall of defense. But there was no way I could. I just had to realize that it was all my fault.

_Ugh. _So I picked _now _to think rationally?

"I had to get away from there. It was too much."

Vivica just gave me a strange look. "What, aren't you doing well in school?"

"No. Everything's slipping. My grades, my friends, my life," it didn't sound half as depressing as it had when I said it with a mouth full of chicken. In fact, it sounded like something out of a bad ABC Family Soap. (Which isn't really, family-safe – they're doing drugs and getting knocked up left and right.)

Vivica grabbed a leg for herself and looked at me, silently urging me to keep going.

"Well, you remember Claire, Dylan, and Alicia?" She nodded. "Well, we don't even talk anymore. Ever. I mean, we used to be the best of friends until we all got ripped apart. And now all I have left is Layne – and I barely even see her anymore, since she started hanging out with the skaters. She keeps saying that I should get more friends but I can't because of this rumor that Claire '_accidentally_' helped to start!"

My aunt opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

"I mean, how do you _accidentally _tell the second most evil being on earth – _next to the devil incarnate herself _– and the school's official gossip girl that I'm gay! Or how do you at least lead her to believe that? No! It just doesn't come out _by accident_! I think she was just mad because Cam cheated on her. You remember Cam, right? The one who looks like Layne's old husky with the weird eyes."

"_Kristen._"

"So yeah, he got really drunk at this party over the summer and ended up _sleeping _with _Alicia_. And Claire felt the need to take it out on me! Isn't that unfair? And so I'm not talking to Claire again, and I _tried _talking to Alicia – but she's completely changed, she's like this snotty little ho now…_don't laugh– it's not funny! _So I don't even want to try talking to her anymore."

"_Kristen."_

"Then I thought I could still be friends with Dylan, but apparently not. She was all pregnant and biting everyone's head off. And then she started going out with _Kemp Hurley_, even though she knows he bullied me for just about most of my life – and when I tried to ask her why, she got all mad and yelled at me, saying that I was self-absorbed for not giving her a pity party or something!" I finished with a huff, kind of surprised at how long the story actually was. Ha, and that was only last year.

"_Kristen!" _Vivica snapped over her chicken, staring at me with wide eyes. I stopped mid-rant, blinking at her cluelessly. "You do realize this is starting to sound like a bad soap opera, right?"

I just closed my mouth and sat back, dropping the chicken bone onto a napkin. Well, it was true.

Vivica sighed, and put her chicken leg down on the plate, staring into my soul again. "So all of this happened to you _personally _because of a rumor? Don't those die down quickly?"

My eyes filled with tears of desperation, and even though I was sure that the giant lump that formed whenever I cried would stop me from talking, I couldn't help but blurt out: "Not when they're true!"

* * *

**EN: I apologize for only putting two people in this one, but hey, when the plot calls for it, I do what I've gotta do. Anyway, poll of the day is what would you rather see happen out of these three, awkward, character-changing scenarios:**

**A: **_Derrick actually meets his daughter, and his feelings slowly start to change_

**B: **_Josh dumps Massie, which causes her to try to change herself_

**C:**_ Cam and Claire have an awkward conversation about what things could've been like._

**Au revoir!**


	11. Slapped

**AN: **OMG. It's been forever. But that's what happens when you don't keep stuff backed up _. So yeah, here are some new POVs - parents! So I apologize if the format's all weird.

&& old P!AtD songs are love.

* * *

**Slapped.**

**_"Now I'm of consenting age;; To be forgetting you in a cabaret" - _But It's Better If You Do; **Panic! At the Disco

**-L. Fisher-  
**

**I**t's really a horrible thing when life slaps you in the face.

There was the time when Laura Fisher came home, wondering why her oldest son had skipped a whole day's worth of classes. Harris had always been a good boy - outgoing, smart, he made friends easily, and had already captured the hearts of many by the time he hit preschool. Of course, she'd never taken it into account that getting good grades on a preschool report card didn't mean much technically. She took it as a fact that he'd make straight As and be the perfect child she'd wanted for the rest of his life.

Until of course, she found three bags of weed in his pockets.

Let's not forget the time she and her high school sweetheart had decided to get eloped. This was before Mr. Fisher of course, with a certain Mr. Antonio Rivera. Oh, how she'd loved him so. When her mother told her that she wasn't allowed to see him anymore due to his bad reputation around the neighborhood, Laura wouldn't stand for it. She made the decision to play the stereotypical "we love each other" role, packed a duffel bag with her most precious belongings, and drove off into the night. She had originally been planning on staying at Antonio's, where she dreamed life would be perfect, as if they were married. She'd make breakfast for him in the morning, and they'd have all the time in the world to stay together and act like the gooey couple they were. Laura clung to that idea like a lifeline.

Until she found him in the arms of the school slut, Nadia.

Maybe that was the worst day of her life. Laura remembered the tears that flowed down her eyes at the sight of him even being near that woman. The kind of person who would show up in public with ridiculous boots, short skirts, tight tops. Even though she wasn't supposed to technically hate anything, there was nothing she despised more than that type of person.

That didn't change when she found her younger son with Alicia Rivera.

Laura had just been coming home after a nice tea with one of the neighbors, only to find a big tan bag on the floor. And unless Harris had developed a new interest in anything Coach, then it undoubtedly belonged to a stranger. No, Laura decided, putting on her best Bree Hodge (Desperate Housewives) smile and putting her stuff down quietly. Maybe Cam had brought Claire over again - she was such a nice girl, but Laura hadn't seen her in over a year. And there was Nikki once, but she didn't stay long, Cam ushered her out quickly.

Laura didn't notice the two at first, until she walked all the way into the kitchen. She'd assumed that maybe they were in the basement playing pool, or Guitar Hero, or something respectable like that. What she didn't assume was that Cam would be on the couch, signature leather jacket thrown aside, and - in the words of her children- making out with what could have only been described as the spitting image of Nadia.

"Mom!" Cam sputtered when he caught sight of his mother, moving backwards from the girl Laura recognized as Alicia. Antonio's daughter. "I. . ." What could he say? That he hadn't expected her to come home so early? Just the other day, he'd told her he was in a relationship, but they were taking it slow. Had he given up that easily? Laura stared down at Alicia, her head cocked to the side, tapping her foot against the linoleum tiles.

Alicia, looking more embarrassed than shocked sat up slowly, fixing her hair and refusing to look Laura in the eyes. She got up just as sluggishly, like she was moving through molasses. "I think I should go..." she swallowed, wiping kiss-bruised lips self-consciously.

"Li- no, you don't have to go home yet," he grabbed on to her hand, like his mother wasn't even there. Alicia stopped and nodded, standing there, holding on to his hand. Laura would've slapped herself across the face if it meant that this was all a dream.

Laura folded her arms and looked down at them with her critical eyes narrowed. "Well, Alicia," she plastered her trademark fake smile on. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

--

_"Leesh, what're you wearing?" Dylan Marvil made no effort at sugarcoating the shock in her tone._

_"What's with that outfit?" Claire Lyons chimed in, slightly more polite. She kept most of her disapproving opinion silent, not wanting to hurt a friend's feelings._

_"I don't see an outfit, just cloth and skin," Kristen Gregory muttered, looking up from her science textbook._

_Alicia Rivera, only twelve, looked down at herself. "It's a hand-me-down." She said flatly. The others shut up._

_--  
_

**-A. Rivera-**

**A **reunion is supposed to be a beautiful thing. You're supposed to run into the arms of whomever you're being reunited with, and cry, and make promises that things will be better next time. It's a happy thing, worthy of a TLC show. Then why had his reunion come out more like a bad MTV show - fighting, yelling, and everything that a reunion wasn't supposed to be.

There hadn't just been a fight with the daughter he expected would be happy to have a father in her life. No. Life had to be even harder - he'd gotten into what could only be desribed as the biggest arguement possible with Nadia. And it hadn't even been about sensible things he could apologize for - like leaving her a single mother. It was about how he'd left her dateless. Just when he'd thought the woman couldn't be any more selfish. And Nadia had just about flipped when he told her his new bride had suggested sending Alicia away to stay with her cousins. It was supposed to get her away from the negative environment.

Yeah. That had worked well.

"Where's Alicia?" Antonio bothered asking, god knows why.

Nadia turned away from where she'd been standing cuddled with Len, slightly annoyed that he'd let himself in. "Dios, I don't know. She went somewhere with her friends." Nadia turned back to Len, which was supposed to be Antonio's cue to leave. He stayed put.

"Which friends?" If he was going to do this fathering thing, he was going to do it right.

Nadia huffed and walked away from her boyfriend, glaring daggers at her ex husband. "I don't know, but she's not here, so you can go home."

Antonio just picked his car keys up off of the kitchen counter, wondering what he'd ever seen in the woman in the first place.

**-M. Marvil-**

**D**ylan Marvil couldn't have had this child. The thought occurred to Merri-Lee whenever she turned around to see Mira splashing bubble bath everywhere, or dropping her Cheerios on the floor, giggling. This was all a dream. Merri-Lee didn't raise the type of girls to run around, getting themselves knocked up - especially when they didn't even have a boyfriend or steady relationship. She thought of Dylan based on the comments she saw on progress reports. Hard worker. Pleasure to have around. Diligent. But now, all she saw when she looked at Dylan was a teenage mother, and a struggling one at that. Hell, she didn't even know who the father was. She'd been expecting Dylan to tell her.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen a father hanging around at all. The only guy to stop by had been Kemp - and it was pretty much obvious that he wasn't the father - especially since he never seemed to want to touch Mira. Merri-Lee frowned to herself, trying to picture all the boys in Dylan's school. It could be some random older boy, it could've been someone right under her nose. The ideas buzzed around her head like a swarm of hornets. Loudly, persistently, and they wouldn't die, no matter how many times thinking about it stung.

"Well one thing's for sure Mira," Merri-Lee said more to herself than to the happy little girl before her. She pulled the covers over her granddaughter, reminding herself to yell at Dylan for falling asleep before putting Mira to bed. "Whoever your daddy was, he had pretty eyes."

Mira just blinked at her grandmother, sleepy and clueless.

**-J. Lyons-**

**C**laire Lyons always had a good relationship with her mother. They shared everything, from the boys Claire had talked to at school (the small amount), to the man at accounting who always tried to flirt with Judi. They would laugh life off, the perfect mother-daughter couple. But that had all come to a stop recently, and suddenly, Judi felt like she didn't know Claire at all. Which was why it was such a big deal when she came home from work to find Claire's silver promise ring abandoned in the trash.

"Hi honey," Judi smiled as she slid into the seat next to her daughter. Claire just gave her a friendly smile, the same one you'd give an acquaintance. "How's life been? Anything interesting?"

Claire stopped smiling and shook her head, focusing instead on her plate. "No."

Judi decided to stop beating around the bush and get right to the point. This felt strained enough already. "I found this," she held up the ring, "in the garbage. Did you drop it by accident?"

"Ugh, I don't wanna hear this!" Todd grumbled, covering his ears like a little kid. He rolled his eyes when the two insisted on talking anyway.

Claire looked at the small ring, her eyes widening for just a moment. She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes like the world was on her shoulders. Suddenly, in Judi's eyes, Claire looked exhausted. She sat in silence for a moment, trying silently to grasp the right words. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at her mother. With no more hesitation: "No."

Judi's brow furrowed. "Should I be concerned?"

"I'm trying to eat!" Todd reminded everyone, gesturing to his plate. He sighed when he went ignored again, stabbing into another babybak rib. His mother's suspicion of his sister was about the last thing he wanted to hear when he was eating.

Her daughter shook her head quickly. "No mom, it's not like that. I'm still waiting and everything...it's just that I don't want what the ring represents anymore." She looked away from the ring, blue eyes filled with some emotion Judi couldn't really decipher. Claire caught on to her mother's assumption and shook her head again. "Not like that. I mean, what it used to represent." Judi almost choked.

"Waiting? Chastity?"

"No!" Claire stood up from the table, pushing her plate away. "Cam!" She shoved her chair in, a million emotions running through her at once. Turning on her heel, she hurried up the stairs, slamming the door behind her.

"Don't slam!" Her father's voice drifted from across the hall.

Judi sat there, utterly confused. Todd's whistle broke the silence.

"Must be someone's time of month."

"Todd. Shut up."

* * *

Sorry for the overall suckiness, it's hard to get back on track. . . R&R anyway!


	12. Kiss

**Disclaimer: If anyone in the world wasn't sure; I'm not the real author. I'd be out there getting my money if I was O:p**

**AN: NO this chapter isn't really that important, I just felt the need to add some Q.C.D. - quick character development. Don't kill me haha**

* * *

**  
**_"I just want your extra time and your kiss" - _**_Kiss_; Prince**

**Kiss**

**-C.L.-**

_"Can you keep up? Baby boy, make me lose my breath" - _**_Lose My Breath; _Destiny's Child**

**C**laire Lyons' first kiss had been almost everything it should've been. It was sweet - just after a gift of flowers and chocolate. The moment was right, the sun was setting over the soccer field, where Claire and her significant other/predetermined life partner Cam took their usual walks. The soft Secondhand Serenade song coming from his iPod, and the pinks and purples of the sky seemed to make the moment perfect. And yet, as she closed pale lashes and leaned in, it wasn't.

It was almost like an automatic thing, done because everyone expected it to be done. (Alicia and Dylan had been most horrified when they heard that the famed golden couple had yet to "consummate their boyfriend/girlfriend-ness" in the words of Dylan.) The setting was perfect, the moment was something out of a teen soap. And yet, there was one thing missing, what was probably the most important element to it all.

Claire's first kiss, which had almost been everything it should've; was deprived - no, _devoid_ of passion. Lips met and broke apart just as quickly. They both parted ways.

**-K.G.-**

_"I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand//I want your love" - _**_Bad Romance; _Lady GaGa**

**A**s embarrassed and ashamed as she had been to say it, Kristen Gregory had never had her first kiss. Way too shy to join in on the spin the bottle games everyone loved, she sat on the sidelines. There was always some excuse for her to avoid it - her mother wouldn't let her near anything male, she was focused on grades, she didn't have time. In reality, she was too afraid of being told that whoever she liked at the time didn't like her back.

Kristen sat back and dreamed of it all, of all the ways it would feel. She dreamed of cherry chapstick, gum being lost, bumping noses. And then, shaking her head like a wet dog, she would flip open the nearest textbook. After all, she didn't have time.

**-N.D.-**

_"I don't want you, but I want it, and I can't let it go//So now you gon' give it to her like you gave it to me c'mon" - _**_Ring the Alarm; _Beyonce**

**H**eart pounding, head-dizzying, and just amazing, Nikki Dalton's first kiss was probably the happiest day of her life. She'd felt like someone special, someone worth loving - and not just the quiet girl in the corner others usually saw her as. Nikki remembered everything about it, even the way his lips were slightly chapped, and his breath smelled like cheap spray. That moment - which she considered the passage from little-kid to girl-hood - and that boy had stolen her heart.

Just as quickly as it was stolen, it was stomped on, run over by an oil truck, spit on, and re-gifted. She'd found that boy - the one who's name she decided to never again mention, kissing her ex best friend. Probably the worst part was, he kissed her the same way. Arms wrapped around her waist, chapped lips doing the same exact motion. He'd even fed her the same lines before. And just like that, Nikki went from special, lovable girl, to girl-in-corner once again.

She swore she'd never feel so special again. And then Cameron Fisher looked at her.

**-A.R.-**

_"My heart is missing some pieces//I need this puzzle put together again" - _**_Damaged; _Danity Kane**

**T**o be completely honest, Alicia Rivera didn't remember much about her first _real_ kiss. Her first, romance-movie-esque, open-mouthed Frenching. All she remembered was that her mother had left her alone - _yet again_, because one of her boyfriends (Rodney? Jayson? DeShaun? Juan?) had wanted to surprise her with tickets to Vegas. The only thing she'd found in her house was one of those damned sticky notes. Deciding to get rid of her pent up annoyance with her mother's new obsession with RodneyJaysonDeShaunJuan, she'd gone off to some school event - she couldn't even remember what it was - that her mother had denied her permission too.

There she'd met ChrisWayneScott, who at first, made her feel nothing but uncomfortable. She was only in seventh grade, and there he was, a sophomore going on to his junior year. But then, he'd started with the charm - her hair was gorgeous, her eyes bright, her face pretty - he couldn't seem to understand why she'd come there alone. And soon, before she knew it, she was alone in a hallway with ChrisWayneScott, who was moving on autopilot - she could barely remember how she'd gotten there in the first place. He sure knew what he was doing - the only thing she could focus on was the adrenaline of it all, _Dylan was going to freak out!_

Just as suddenly, she hated it. Who was this boy anyway? When did they get there? How long had she been there? ChrisWayneScott wasn't noticing her discomfort at all, in fact, he was going faster. Before Alicia could even protest - _this_ was something she remembered clearly - a heavily accentd voice called her name down the hall. RodenyJaysonDeShaunJuan's tickets had been fake, her mother had come back home immediately. Next thing Alicia knew, she was being dragged off by a clearly pissed mother, muttering all the while about ungrateful, rebellious children.

Good thing she was a responsible mother.

**-O.R.-**

_"I make them good girls go bad" - _**_Good Girls Go Bad; _Cobra Starship**

**O**livia Ryans first kiss was in what she liked to call her "childhood", despite the fact that it hadn't really been that long ago. She remembered it like it was yesterday, a movie playing over and over in her mind at all times. The first time was with a boy she truly, genuinely liked, as hard as some people found that to believe. His name had been Robert - the name made her think of old men, but nonetheless he'd been hot. Devious brown eyes, and a cutely mussed mop of curly blond hair, and a smirk that could melt hearts. Thinking about how she'd fallen for him made her sick, the way she'd simpered after him like the "silly little girls" she always made fun of.

And then, he'd given her the time of day. Her first time actually - kissing and otherwise. Just when she'd thought they'd "connected spiritually" or whatever they said in those abstinence sermons, he'd told her that he only wanted to hit it and quit it, before getting up, and going off to smoke a cigarette stolen from his father. Olivia, not one to take defeat easily, had put herself back together, reaching for discarded items. With her head held high, and her heart turned to stone, she left, and had sworn off love forever.

And then, she'd met Derrick Harrington. Messy dirty blond hair, deep brown eyes, and a signature smirk.

**-M.B.-**

_"We came to party rock//Everybody it's on!" - _**_Shots; _LMFAO**

**M**assie Block's first time kissing someone was her first time trying stolen Merlot. And Grey Goose. And Bud's Light. The world was a merry-go-round, a blur of colors, lights and sounds, almost like being a little kid again. She'd danced, like a bird, free. He'd had just as much as she did. And then, somehow, through the blur that was her living room, they'd found each other. Half an hour of drunken babble, about crap she couldn't remember if she tried. And then, soon enough, they were making out. It was magic - she wasn't Massie, Olivia's sidekick, who spent loads of time worrying about what a bunch of stuck-up girls would think of her outfit. She was a bird, a kite, flying high, feeling dizzy.

It wore off eventually. Hammering pain replaced the soaring feeling. He went home, and she never saw or heard from him again. But Massie spent the rest of her life trying to get that feeling back - to fly above the clouds and be a bird, lovely and free.

* * *

**Thoughts por favor? Which story did you like best? Which was the worst? Want to attack me for doing this instead of a real update? R&R O;)**


	13. Bad Romance

**Disclaimer: I doubt you guys think I've magically transformed into Lisi over a few months. ;)**

**AN: You guys are awesome. Sorry about a lack of Nikki sometimes, it can be annoying to add her in somewhere. No Claire this time either.  


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**

_You know that I want you// and you know that I need you// I want your bad// Your bad romance_

**~Bad Romance; **Lady GaGa~

**Bad Romance

* * *

**

--**Dylan--**

**I**'d practically collapsed the moment I put Mira down. How my mother raised me _and _my sisters only a few years apart was beginning to seem like the eighth world wonder. It seemed like every time I wanted to sit down, maybe call a friend, text Kemp, or just take a moment to relax, Mira sprang up like a Jack-in-the-Box. She was hungry, she was tired, she needed attention. I think the only difference between the two of us was that she needed someone to hold her while she drifted off to sleep, and I was about ready to fall face-first. Curled up together, mother and daughter, for once, things were peaceful. It reminded me of those magazine covers in the doctor's office, where they painted parenthood as something beautiful - _the best years of your life!_

Just as soon as it had been something beautiful, it wasn't anymore.

Somehow, I fell into a deeper sleep than I'd expected, and had ended up dreaming. I almost never dreamed - and when I did, it was always something that made me feel sick inside. That time I dreamed of Derrick. I heard his voice as he softly talked to Mira in that store, ruffling her hair, and failing to realize she not only had his eyes - but was developing his chin. I saw myself there too, as some kind of desperate housewife, smiling after the pair, even though there was really no room for me in that picture. He cheered Mira on as she made one of her wobbly attempts to run, laughing and smiling brighter than she ever had before. And then, he picked us both up in his arms, saying something along the lines of how he loved "his two girls". (Heh, and for once, 'his two' didn't include Olivia Ryan.)

I woke up with a start, like it had been a nightmare instead of something sweet like that. Mira was peeking at me with sleepy eyes, too tired to cry. Her eyes closed again, and a smile spread on her face slowly. I sat up, hugging my knees to a chest and looking at her, thinking about him. How life could be so bittersweet.

Mira's mouth twitched, as if it was trying to form words. I frowned softly, stroking her hair, and wondered if she was dreaming the same thing I had been.

_--_

_Derrick Harrington had seen that little girl before - but, not knowing who she was, he'd just called her Red._

_Red was always with what Derrick assumed was her mother, and failed to recognize as Merri-Lee Marvil. C'mon: why on earth would he know who she was? That would require (shudder) watching talk shows. Merri-Lee didn't seem to know who he was either, and called him That Nice Young Man. Everytime Merri-Lee and Red went shopping, she would run up and down the candy aisle, looking for Young Man. As always, he would come out from behind a shelf of Blues Clues toys._

_"She looks forwards to this every time," Merri-Lee would smile. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"_

_That Nice Young Man would grimace for a moment. "I'm just good with kids."_

_--_

**--Alicia--**

**I **hadn't wanted it to end up that way. As cliche as it sounds, the only reason I'd been over at that house was because I wanted, well, to be held by someone. Massie had a policy - she would never hug anything female, not even a dog. For her, it was all about the opposite sex. Olivia would hug, but only if she thought it was expected of her. When it came to being empathetic or emotional, she failed miserably. Her hugs were stiff and awkward, as if she was checking her reflection in a mirror over your shoulder, or impatiently waiting for you to say you were okay. I really didn't have any other girl friends, I don't really like the girls at our school in general, and the only girls who paid me any attention were the ones who would show up early at school to write "s-k-a-n-k" on my locker in angry red letters.

It wasn't that I was trying to break the '_take it slow_' thing. I'd actually meant to keep it for as long as it would last, taking it as a sign that _someone _out there gave a damn about me. We hadn't done anything so serious after the first time, but it was nice to know that he still had some kind of values, even if I was starting to think that I didn't. The point was, I had no intention of do anything but maybe talking things out, "getting to know each other even better" like they say in those dating talks in health class. But it's like science whenever we're together - opposites attract.

Laura Fisher sat there and gave us both a hollow smile, patting her chignon. She looked like she'd just walked out of one of those "good wife" books from the fifties. "Harris, Cameron, your father won't be joining us tonight, he has work," she said in a calm voice. She reminded me eerily of a brunette Bree van de Kamp, or Hodge, or whatever her name was now. She continued to pat her hair, surveying everyone at the table but me. I felt unbelievably third-wheel.

Harris was stuffing the mashed potatoes and home-made chicken down his throat like he hadn't eaten in years. He wasn't bothered by the tension at all. (A side glance from Cam told me that he had any girlfriend who lasted longer than three weeks over for dinner.) Cam was stirring his potatoes like soup, and taking a bite maybe once every three minutes. I just stared at my plate, not really sure if I was welcome to eat their food. The way Mrs. Fisher had looked at me kind of told me otherwise. She barely touched the food herself, and her smile seemed like it had been stitched on. Finally, she turned to face Cam, still giving him that Stepford smile.

"So Cameron, do tell me," she said, her tone placid. She paused for a moment, and rethought her words. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Maybe it was a household term because Harris started snickering. Cam went redder than a tomato. _"Moooom!" _he sounded just like the kids on TV. Some part of me wondered if this was what all normal families were like.

"What? I think as the woman who birthed you, I have a right to know," she pressed on. Harris kept on laughing, and Cam pushed his plate away, his nose wrinkling slightly.

"God mom, I'm trying to eat." He stopped and rolled his eyes when he saw the look she was giving him. "_Gosh_ mom, I'm trying to eat." To prove his point, he took a huge forkful of food and ate it, chewing slowly just so he wouldn't be able to answer his mother's question. I just sat there, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach.

Laura turned emerald eyes on me. There was no re-wording this time. "Are you a virgin?" She asked sternly, like a teacher would scold a kid who forgot their homework. Cam choked on his foot, coughing into the plate. Harris only laughed more, and Cam pushed his chair backwards, sending his brother toppling to the floor.

"Don't answer that!" He said, blanching at the same time that his mother snapped, "Help your brother up!"

Instead, Cam stepped over Harris, rolling the collar of his leather jacket as high as it would go just to hide his face. "I think we should go," he said, failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. I couldn't help but notice the 'we'. Laura only looked at him strangely, as if she couldn't figure out what she'd said wrong. Harris was regaining the ability to breathe. Cam took my hand suddenly, practically pulling me up from the chair. I could feel his mother's condescending eyes on my back, scrutinizing everything.

"Wouldn't you need a ride?" Mrs. Fisher asked calmly.

Cam just slammed the door.

**--Kristen--**

**I**t was only once Aunt Vivica's car pulled up in that familiar parking lot that I felt the weight of it all. Me running, how everyone thought I was missing, and (sure to come) the punishments for my being so selfish and stupid. She took the keys out of the ignition and turned to face me, putting her hand over mine. "You ready?" She asked slowly, squeezing my hand. Clenching my jaw, I nodded, bracing myself for impact. Vivica opened her door first, and that seemed to do the trick. Before I could turn around and tell her that I was in no way, shape, or form ready to go out and face everyone, my mother practically materialized outside the door. I couldn't help but feel conspired against.

First came the tears. My mom swept me up in the biggest hug she'd ever given, me, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt horrible, knowing that I'd left her worrying so much. Maybe it wouldn't have killed me to call or say something. After being gone for so long, I could barely remember why I'd run off in the first place. Everything felt like a distant memory. My mom was crying and telling me how she was so sorry for whatever had happened to me, and how she would always be there from then on.

Just before I could relax in the hug, the anger came barreling at me. "Kristen Michelle Gregory! How could you be so stupid and irresponsible! Running off like that and not telling anyone? What were you planning on doing? You're lucky I can't put bars on your windows! Honestly, what would you have accomplished from such an idiot stunt?"

"I needed to get away," I said feebly, realizing how pathetic that sounded.

"Get away? From what?" My mother practically screeched. "Do you know how many people you had worried sick? People always calling my phone, that Plovert boy, that Claire girl-"

"_Claire_?" I asked, incredulous. I hadn't even said a word to her since last year. I guess it made sense, we had been best friends at one point. But I hadn't thought she would even remember me. My mom was still rattling off names.

"Some Hotz boy, those two I never liked...Dylan? Alicia? Whatever..."

Suddenly, I threw my arms around my mother's neck, and hugged her tight.

* * *

**EN: Alright guys, we all know Kris is gay...or at least bi. So, I've got a question: should Kristen "develop feelings" for one of the female characters? If so, which one? Remember, it's _not _about beliefs, it's about keeping things moving, and drama, drama, drama. **


End file.
